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1> "^ N ^ 




THE POETRY 




THE ARABS OF SPAIN 



Being the substance of a Lecture read in the small Chapel of the University 
of the City of New York, on the evening of March 28th, 1867, 



G. J. IDLER, A. M., 

Late Professor of German to the University; Member of several Learned Societies. 



PRES 




NEW YORK: 
OF WYNKOOP & HALLENBECK 
No. 113 Fulton Street, N. Y. 
1867. 




* 



^fix^W^lTy*, 



THE POETRY 



OF 



THE ARABS OF SPAIN 



BY THE SAME AUTHOR, 



1 . OLLENDORFF'S NEW METHOD OF LEARNING THE GERMAN, with 

an Outline of the Grammar of the Language. By G. J. Adler, Professor 
of German in the University of the City of New York. 1 vol. 12mo. 
D. Appleton & Co., New York, 1845. 

2. A PROGRESSIVE GERMAN READER, adapted to Adler's Outline of Ger- 

man Grammar. By the same. 1 vol 12mo. New York, 1846. 

3. GERMAN-ENGLISH AND ENGLISH-GERMAN DICTIONARY, com- 

piled from the most recent authorities. By the same. 1 vol. royal 
8vo. 1400 pages. New York, 1848. 

4. An abridgment of the same, prepared with reference to students of the lan- 

guage. By the same. 1 vol. 12mo., 844 pages. New York, 1850. 

5. HAND-BOOK OF GERMAN LITERATURE. Selections from the Drama, 

with chronologically arranged specimens of German Prose. By the 
same. 1 vol. 12mo. New York, 1854. 

6. GOETHE'S IPHIGENIA IN TAURIS, translated from the German. By 

the same. 1 vol. 12mo. New York, 1850. 

7. A PRACTICAL LATIN GRAMMAR, upon the plan of Ollendorff's New 

Methods. By the same. 1 vol. 12mo., 710 pages. Sanborn, Carter, 
Bazin & Co., Boston, 1858. * 

8. FAURIEL'S HISTORY OF PROVENCAL POETRY, translated from the 

French, with an Introduction on the Literature of the History. By the 
same. 1 vol. 8vo. Derby & Jackson, New York, 1860. 

9. NOTES ON THE AGAMEMNON OF ^ESCHYLUS (a fragment). By the 

same. Chambersburg, 1860. 

10. WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT'S LINGUISTICAL STUDIES. By the 

same. (In pamphlet.) New York, 1866. 

11 . GOETHE'S FAUST (Parts 1st and 2d). Text and translation, with Intro- 

ductions on the Faust Literature, and ample notes, in two vols. By 
the same. (In preparation . ) 

Professor Adler attends to a few private students or classes in the 
studies related to his text-books. Ladies or gentlemen desirous of availing 
themselves of his instruction (either on their own behalf or that of minors) will 
please address him to box 1600, N. Y. City P. O., or to the care of his publishers, 
D. Appleton & Co., 445 Broadway. 



THE POETRY 



OF 



THE ARABS OF SPAIN. 



Being the substance of a Lecture read in the small Chapel of the University 
of the City of New York, on the evening of March 2Sth, 1867, 



BY 



G. J. IDLER, A. M., 

Late Professor of German to the University; Member of several Learned Societies. 



/ 



6 NEW YORK: 

PRESS OF WYNKOOP & HALLENBECK 
No. 113 Fulton Stbeet, N. Y. 
1867. 



.A3 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 18G7, 
By G. J. ADLER, 

In the Clerk's Office of the United States District Court for the Southern 
District of New York. 



TO THE READER. 

The civilization of the Moslems of Spain has for the 
last quarter of a centiiry been one of the most attractive 
themes of learned inquiry, and Science, History, Litera- 
ture and Art have each been eager after new results > f 
some of which Romance among" us has sought to invest 



o 



Lgj 



with the nimbus of its charms. Of late years their po- 
litical history and that of their polite literature have 
more especially been favored with valuable contributions, 
partly in the shape of translations, partly in original 
Works, from the pens of savans like Gayangos, dd Slane, 
Dozy, Hammer-Purgstall, von Schack and others, and we 
have now an abundance of new light on matters hereto- 
fore known to but few or in the dim outlines of vague 
uncertainty. Leaving entirely aside the question of politi- 
cal history, except so far as it is interwoven with that 
of letters, I have endeavored, in the following pages, to 
give a brief survey of the immense field of the poetry of 
the Arabs of Spain, — -a theme long familiar to us as one 
of fascinating romance, but known to us rather in gene- 
ralities than in living specimens sufficient to give us a 
more or less adequate conception of its real character. 
From this sketch I could not very w^ell exclude a sum- 
mary recapitulation of the antecedents of this poetry, 
from its first crude tentatives of the desert to the date of 
the establishment of the Caliphate of the West ; and these 
antecedents are fraught with so much interest, that it is 
hoped the reader will excuse it, if the porch should strike 



VI 

him as not in strict harmony with the proportions of the 
edifice. For the benefit of further inquiry, I subjoin 
here also a list of the authorities upon which the little 
work is based, and in which the student of Literary 
History will find nearly all of any account that thus far 
lias been introduced to us. 

1. Literaturgeschichte der Araber von ihrem Beginne bis zu Ende 

des zwolften Jahrhunderts der Hidschret, von Hammer-Purgs- 
tall. 7 vols. 8vo. Wien, 1850-1856. 

2. Poesie und Kunst der Araber in Spanien und Sicilien, von A. 

F. von Schack. 2 vols. 12mo. Berlin, 1865. 

3. Kecherches sur PHistoire et la Litterature de PEspagne pendant 

le Moyen Age, par R. Dozy. 2 vols. 8vo. Leyde, 1860. 

4. Histoire des Musulmans d'Espagne jusqu'a la conquete de la 

Andalousie par les Almoravides, par R. Dozy. 4 vols. 8vo. 
Leyde, 1861. 

5. Analectes sur PHistoire et la Litterature des Arabes d'Espagne, 

publies par MM. Dozy, Dugal, Krehl et Wright. Leyde, 1861, 

6. History of the Mohammedan Dynasties of Spain. From the 

text of Ahmed Muhammed al Makkari. Translated by Pascual 
de Gayangos. 2 vols. 4to. London, 1840. 

7. Ibn Challikan*s Biographical Dictionary, translated from the 

Arabic by Baron Mac Guckin de Slane. 3 vols. 4to. Paris, 
1843-45. 

8. Prolegomenes Historiques d'Ibn Chaldun, traduits de Parabe 

par M. G. de Slane. 2 vols. 4to. Paris, 1862-65. 

9. Histoire des Berberes et des Dynasties Musulmans d'Ibn Chal- 

dun (arabe), par M. le baron de Slane. 2 vols. Algiers, 1847. 

10. Journal Asiatique. Paris. 1830-1865. 

I have in conclusion to express my acknowledgments 
to a number of friends, at whose request and under whose 
auspices my manuscript appears in type. 



New York, August, 1867. 



G. J. ADLEK, 



THE POETRY OF '1HE ARABS OF SPAIN. 



The earliest poetical tentatives of the Arabs were improvi- 
sations, short epigrammatic pieces produced by the inspiration 
of the moment, and this appears to have been the only way in 
which the poetic talent of the nation displayed itself till toward 
the commencement of the sixth century of our era, near 
which time the art of writing was also introduced among 
them. 

About that epoch, however, their genius in this direction 
developed itself with astonishing rapidity, and with such sur- 
prising success, that all the most celebrated masterpieces of 
the pre-islamitic period, and those that passed for classical at 
all times, were produced during the interval between the year 
500 A. D. and the hegira (A. D. 622), i. e. within the space of 
less than a century and a quarter. It is true, that the different 
tribes quarrelled with one another about the priority of their 
distinguished names, but we have the decision of one of their 
own authorities to the effect that they all of them belonged to 
about the same epoch, and that the oldest of them could not 
have preceded the flight of the Prophet much more than a cen- 
tury. 

The extent to which during this century poetry and the poets 
were held in esteem by the inhabitants of the Peninsula we 
may infer from the fact that the different tribes linked public 
exhibitions and recitations to the annual gatherings of their 
fairs — a ceremony for which the little palm-shaded town of 
Okadz, about three days' journey from Mecca, became more 
especially distinguished. The fair here was on the most sump- 
tuous and extensive scale, and attended by crowds from every 
section of the country. It was held about the beginning of the 
three sacred months during which by an ancient custom every 
sort of warfare, bloodshed and revenge were religiously pro- 
hibited, and where the visitors were required to silence every 
hate. It was here that, in solemn public contest, the poets, 
who were most commonly also warriors, recited their verses, in 



which they generally undertook to celebrate either their own 
achievements, the renown of their ancestors, or the glory of 
their respective tribes. The poem, which Won the prize on this 
occasion, was recorded on byssus in letters of gold, and then 
Suspended from the Walls of the Kaaba, the most ancient sanc- 
tuary of the sons of Ishmael, at Mecca. So runs at least an 
old tradition, which, although recently contested, has neverthe- 
less considerable evidence in its favor. The seven great poems 
which constitute the body of the Muallakat (i. e. " the 
suspended"), were thus honored with the prize, and are at this 
day yet inviting our examination. In contradistinction to 
all the previous more primitive attempts of the sort, these 
poems no longer consist of but a few brief verses ; they are com- 
positions of more considerable dimensions, constructed with 
more artistic rhythm and rounded off into a more or less con- 
sistent whole. It is true, they are not pervaded by one domi- 
nant idea ; they consist mostly of a series of emotions and 
descriptions rather loosely strung together ; but amid all this 
disregard for strict unity of design, they yet exhibit at least a 
tendency to a definite aim, and in point of technical execution 
every part of them is constructed upon the same metre and 
With the same rhyme, the latter here extending itself to the 
middle as well as to the end of the verse (belt), which the Arabs 
invariably divided into two equal parts or hemistichs (misra)* 
All these seven poems of the Muallakat belong to what the 
Arabs call the kassida-*-a, name applied to every regular poetic 
composition of from twenty to one hundred lines. In other 
respects this may then be either of the narrative or descriptive, 
the panegyric or satirical, the elegiac, the martial, or the ama- 
tory kind. 

NoW Okadz did not long remain the only place at which fetes 
of the sort were instituted. As the love of poesy struck deeper 
root among the people, the mufachatas or public poetic recitations 
also became more general, and there was many an occasion on 
which the different tribes vied with each other in their attempts 
to produce the best poet, and to celebrate the victor with joyous 
demonstrations of every sort. The tribe even was congratulated 
for having produced a herald of its exploits to perpetuate its 
name among posterity. In a word, poetry now became one of 
the most vital elements of national existence, and that not only 
in the tents of the various chiefs or at the courts of the petty 
kings, but among all the members of the shiftless nomadic 
groups, which, as they roamed over the dreary waste of their 
unmeasured deserts, made the welkin ring with songs commem- 



orating heroic courage, fidelity and love. The poet enjoyed 
a sort of patriarchal respect, wherever he went. He was not 
unfrequently constituted umpire for the adjustment of differ- 
ences, and every one strove to win his favor or to avoid his 
displeasure. 

Much of the poetry of this early pagan period presents a 
curious and striking contrast, or rather incongruity, of substance 
and of form. For, while on the one hand we encounter the 
most unlicensed passions of a barbaric age, and an almost 
unmitigated thirst for murder and revenge, we on the other, 
find all this invested with a subtilty of speech and a refined 
elegance of expression, as if the poem had been composed for 
no other object than that of illustrating a chapter of grammar 
or of rhetoric ! Surprising as it may seem, the Arabs of the 
desert were most indefatigable and even critical students of 
their language, of which they not only made themselves gram- 
matically masters, but were no less fastidious about the choice 
of words, the faultlessness of their rhymes and other points 
esteemed essential to excellence and purity of style. This was 
a study, to which they applied themselves from early youth, 
and which the poets kept up with unceasing vigilance as long 
as they composed. Let the following serve as an instance of 
perhaps extreme nicety on this point : — It once happened that 
two poets, Amrulkais and Alkama, engaged in a discussion 
with each other about th ;ir art, and entertained each other 
with the rehearsal of some of their own pieces. There being 
no umpire present, they agreed to make one of the wife of 
Amrulkais, and she was to decide which of the two deserved 
the precedence. The contest had no sooner commenced, than 
each one did his utmost to excel his rival, until the moment at 
last arrived to award the prize. The fair judge declared herself 
in favor of Alkama, on the ground that he had furnished the 
most successful description of the horse. The decision wounded 
her husband's poetic honor so much, that he at once insisted on 
divorce, and the affair ended by her getting married to his rival. 
(Oaussin de Perceval, vol. i., p. 314, 345.) 

The pre-islamitic poetry of the Arabs, as far as it has come 
down to us, is preserved mainly in the four collections of the 
Muallakat, the Hamasa, the Divan of the Hudseilites (a tribe 
long at war with the Koreishites), and the Great Book of Songs 
(Kitab el aghani). Let us now briefly survey the leading points 
to be considered first in regard to the Muallakat and then con- 
cerning the remaining collections of this period. 

In glancing at the different kassidas ot the Muallakat, we are 
at once struck with the observation, that none of them transcend 



10 

the limits of a certain circle of ideas, and that this circle is itself 
a somewhat circumscribed one. The cause of this is obvious 
enough. The Arab had neither a mythology nor epic tradi- 
tions, like the Oriental or the Greek, and in his attempt to make 
poetry was restricted either to the expression of his personal emo- 
tions or to the delineation of the circumstances of life and nature 
by which he was surrounded. And here even he limited himself 
to mere descriptions; for he remained a stranger to the drama, 
as well as to the epos, and that not only at this early period, but 
at every epoch of his history. We need not therefore be sur- 
prised to meet with the almost incessant recurrence of the same 
objects in nearly every one of these compositions, as for example, 
the perils of a march through the desert, a collision with some 
hostile tribe, the description of a horse, camel or gazelle, of a 
thunderstorm or hurricane, the celebration of the charms of the 
poet's lady-love or of the excellence of his arms, and the like. 
Of all this we encounter more or less in every one of the kas- 
sidas of the Muallakat, and yet we cannot accuse them either of 
monotony or of a want of interest. The keen observation of 
the Arab considers these few objects from a thousand different 
points of view, and his prolific invention invests them with a 
bold novelty, a variety and freshness, which never fail to touch 
the imagination and the heart. 

The names linked to the seven kassidas of the Muallakat 
are Shanfara, Antar, Tarafa, Ibn Kultum, Tuhair, Amrul- 
kais, and Lebid. Of the lives of these poets we know but 
very little, and it is not of much moment that we should. 
Let it suffice for our purpose to give in outline a specimen or 
two of their poetry. The kassida of Shanfara delineates with 
masterly touches the hero of the desert in all his native, 
although savage, grandeur. At variance with all the world, he 
at the hour of midnight moves out into the desert, where he 
then hails the fierce panther and the shaggy hyaena as his 
friends. Stretched out upon the hard and sun-seared ground, 
with no other companion but his trusty bow, his flashing 
sword and his own dauntless heart, he takes his sole delight in 
solitude, which offers the hero refuge against the envy and jeal- 
ousy of his rivals. In many a cold night he has fearlessly ad- 
vanced through the howling storm and darkness, attended by 
hunger and by every thing calculated to inspire terror. He has 
made many a woman a widow and many a child an orphan. 
But he has met with nothing but ingratitude from the brethren 
of his tribe ; it is this which has produced his present aversion 
to men, and he now bids welcome to the monsters of the desert, 



11 

which never betray a friend or carelessly blab out his secrets. 
He is resolved henceforth to live among the slender-bodied 
wolves which plunge through the ravines with the rapidity of 
the wind. He chooses them, because they are brave and defiant 
Jike himself ! — The kassida of Lebid, the last of these ancient 
poets, is a no less curious little ge?ire-sketch of the life of the 
old Arabs. He boasts of himself as always on the alert for the 
defense of his tribe from his watch-post on the hill-top, whence 
he may observe every movement of the enemy, and whence 
their standards even are enveloped by the clouds of dust arising 
from his horse's hoofs. At his tent the traveller always finds 
shelter against the chills of the morning, when the reins of 
the winds are in the hands of the icy North. No poor woman, 
impelled by hunger to seek his protection, has ever been refused 
the comforts of his frugal home. The poet then gives us an 
earnest lesson on the inconstancy of all things here below, and 
on the evanescence of our own brief span of life. We pass away, 
while the stars rising on the sky remain permanent,and the moun- 
tains and palaces surpass us in duration. No mortal can escape 
from the allotments of his Fate, and when his hour strikes, he falls. 
It is with men as it is with camps and those that occupy them ; 
if the latter move away the former remain desolate. Man is 
but a flash of lightning or a flame, and is reduced to ashes the 
moment the light expires. — Lebid was the last of the seven 
authors of the Muallakat, and lived long enough to have 
an interview with the Prophet, which is curious enough to de- 
serve at least a passing notice. Mohammed's preaching had 
already produced a great sensation, and while many were yet 
doubting and even deriding his pretensions, there were many 
others who were no less anxious to ascertain the truth. Among 
the latter were the members of Lebid's tribe, and they knew no 
better way to satisfy themselves than that of commissioning the 
old poet to inquire in their behalf. The latter went and found 
the Prophet in the act of haranguing an assembly in a most elo- 
quent discourse, in which he happened to repeat a portion of 
the second sura. The passage, which is an extremely forcible 
one, produced so powerful an effect on our poet, that he declared 
his muallaka surpassed, and resolved to renounce his art for ever, 
to embrace Islam in its stead. 

We must not allow this incident, however, to mislead us in 
respect to the influence of the Koran on the subsequent devel- 
opment of Arabic poetry ; for this influence was rather a gen- 
eral than a special one, and on that account remained much 
more limited than we might be inclined to suspect. Lebid's 



12 

poetical successors were doubtless all of them Moslems without 
reproach, schooled in their sacred book from early youth and 
ready to defend their faith on every occasion, even with the 
sword, but we nevertheless find them at all times looking up to 
their predecessors of the olden time as the great masters of 
their art, whom they considered it possible only to rival but 
never to surpass, as in respect to the language also they con- 
sidered the desert with its old poets the only school from which 
to learn, and on that account often left distant courts and prov- 
inces to study among the Beduins of the cradle of their faith. 

The remaining collections of the pagan period, that is to 
say, the Hamasa, the Divan of the Hudseilites and others, offer 
us a much larger number of pieces, mostly, however, of smaller 
dimensions, but of much more varied contents than the kassidas. 
We have here strung together side by side poetical effusions of 
every class, heroic songs, lays of the martial and the amatory 
kind (ghasels), dirges and satires, sportive and convivial songs. 
Many of these pieces evince no small degree of lyrical elevation ', 
they offer us a multitude of striking similes, a surprising versatil- 
ity of construction and a certain bold abruptness of style. Nev- 
theless, the Arab here likewise neither did nor could transcend 
the horizon of his circumscribed ideas, and the subjects and sen- 
timents of all these compositions never, pass beyond the limited 
circle of his particular mode of life. Demonstrations of indig- 
nation at the wounded honor of his tribe, invectives against an 
enemy, expressions of sorrow and menaces of revenge over the 
murder of a relative or friend, exultation over feats of prowess 
amid some perilous encounter, exhortations to courage, with 
now and then an apophthegm or sage maxim of life, and occa- 
sionally also sentiments of a humaner sort, such as regretful 
;sighs addressed to a distant love whose image does not cease to 
visit him in his dreams, — such are most commonly the themes 
which inspire the poet of this period, and on which he 
•expends all the ingenuity and art of which his genius was capa- 
ble. 

The introduction of Islam produced a complete revolu- 
tion in the intellectual condition of the Arab and gave his 
entire life and character not only a new direction, but an eleva- 
tion and expansion for which we can scarcely find a parallel in 
history. While in his primitive condition his ideas were deter- 
mined wholly by the impulse of the moment and the circum- 
stances by which he found himself surrounded, the unrivalled 
•eloquence of the Prophet suddenly broke down the limits of time 



13 

and space by pointing the dazzled hearer on the one hand to the 
seven heavens above with the felicity of the Blessed, and on 
the other to the un fathomed pool below, ready to engulf the 
unbeliever in its flames. He was introduced to Allah, the only 
One and the Supreme, the terror of the perverse and the 
munificent rewarderof the observers of his law. The delights 
of the Paradise, more especially held out to the believer, were 
of the most enchanting and transcendent kind, and operated 
with the influence of magic on the naturally material motives 
of the Arab's mind. The Koran was therefore no sooner fairly 
introduced among the different tribes than it at once became 
the foundation of their entire culture, and so powerful was 
the inspiration of its doctrines, that they were ready not 
only to defend them as a divine revelation but even to 
enforce their recognition with the point of the lance in every 
portion of the world. Islam thus became synonymous with 
conquest, and the stern Beduin of the desert in an almost incred- 
ibly short time made himself the military suzerain of immense 
territories, the builder of castles, palaces and cities without 
number, the founder of dynasties, and the possessor of all the 
luxuries and refined material enjoyments that can convert life 
into an almost literal realization of his dreams of Paradise. It 
was thus that within a century of the hegira (A. D. 6*22-722) 
the empire of the caliphs won an expansion, such as none, 
either before or after, ever could boast of in history, extending 
at times towards the East as far as the confines of China, and 
in the West not only over the whole of the north of Africa 
and over Spain, but sometimes even beyond the Pyrenees as 
far as the Garonne. The first seat of the new government 
was Medina, where Mohammed died in A. D. 633, and where 
his successor ruled until C60. In that year Damascus became 
the capital of the caliphate with the accession of the Ommaiades, 
who made that city their residence until the fall of the dynasty 
in A. D. 7 18. In 775 Bagdad was preferred by the Abbassides, 
who retained that as the seat of their dynasty until the extinc- 
tion of the chaliphate of the East in A. D. 1258. In the West 
the petty meleks or kings for more than a century remained 
tributary to the Prophet's successor at Damascus, until their 
own dissensions and the many alternations of the war led to 
the establishment of the rival caliphate of the West in A. D. 
749. The founder of this dynasty was Abdurrahman, a scion 
of the Ommaiades, who upon the accession of the Abbassides 
in the East, had alone been fortunate enough to escape 
from the atrocious massacre of his kinsmen and to find his 



14 

way into Spain. The centre of the Western Caliphate, which 
was one of great power and splendor, was Cordova (750- 
1027). After its dissolution, the Moslem provinces of Spain 
were again ruled by a number of petty kings, among whom we 
must more especially mention those who resided at Granada and 
Seville. The dominion of the Arabs in Spain, counting from 
the first invasion, lasted from A. D. 711 until 1492, that is to 
say, within a few years of eight centuries. The last stern 
defender of Islam upon the soil of Spain was Abul Hassan of 
Granada, and his son Boabdii the last Moorish king, expelled 
by Ferdinand the Catholic in 1492. 

One might suppose that so complete a change of sentiment 
and life as that introduced by the new religion, and the per- 
petual din of arms with the intoxication of success attending 
the first conquests, would have entirely hushed the voice of the 
old poetry of the Arabs, at least for a considerable time. But 
this was far from being the case. For, in the first place, we 
find not only poets, but poets of the court even, directly after 
the establishment of the caliphate of Damascus, and in the sec- 
ond place, the Koran, although worshiped as the great text- 
book at once of the religion and of the education of the Moslem, 
and venerated as a model of eloquence not to be surpassed or 
even approached, nevertheless can not be said to have either 
radically changed or even seriously modified the poetics of the 
Arabs, who in this respect continued to cling to their antece- 
dents of the Muallakat and of the Divan. The extent to which 
this was the case is best illustrated by the following little inci- 
dent: — The celebrated Feresdak, chancing one day to overhear 
a passer-by repeating a passage from Lebid's muallaka, pros- 
trated himself upon the ground, as if in prayer, and when 
interrogated about the cause of this, he replied, " Ye others 
recite passages from the Koran, at which ye expect us to fall 
down ; I am acquainted with verses to which the same homage is 
due." And this was not the sentiment of an individual only, or of 
a particular epoch ; it was the general one at all times, and there 
were even those who went to the extreme of pronouncing all 
the poetry of the islamitic period but a feeble echo of that of 
the earlier golden age. 

The dynasty of the Ommaiades no sooner was fairly estab- 
lished on its throne, than it already retained regularly paid poets 
permanently at its court. One of the main duties of these poets 
was avowedly that of the celebration of the sovereign at whose 
residence they were thus honored, and their kassidas are there- 
fore mostly of the panegyric kind. The poet generally begins 



15 

with allusions to his lady-love and to her former place of resi- 
dence ; he next describes the journey which is to conduct him 
to the presence of his Maecenas, and then concludes with a most 
elaborately pompous eulogy of the suzerain. The importance 
attached to pieces of this sort by the rulers of the East was 
often very great, and there are instances in which a single 
happy expression or a memorable verse relating to their praise 
became an object of no little jealousy among them. 

The number of poets, which flourished during the first cen- 
tury of the new era, was already very considerable, and the 
respect and influence which the most prominent of them en- 
joyed among the nation at large, was often an immense one. 
Indeed, it not unfrequently happened that their favor was 
courted, as if it were a royal one, and the displeasure of their 
verses dreaded as that of the most deadly enemy. All classes 
of society were pervaded by a veritable passion for the noble 
art, which neither the clash of arms nor the wild fanaticism, 
which at that time was in full blaze to disseminate the new law 
over the entire world, were able to silence or suppress. We 
thus find, that even amid the noisiest alarms of war the compara- 
tive merit of two rival poets was discussed with a zeal that 
scarcely could be surpassed, had the question turned upon the 
most important affair of state, and that on the eve of a battle 
and in the presence of two armies a public duel was to be fought 
to decide the question, as to whether Djerir or Feresdak 
was the greater poet of the two. This Djerir and Feresdak 
together with Achtal enjoyed the fame of being the most dis- 
tinguished representatives of their art during the first century ; 
and of this they themselves appear to have been so well aware, 
that each of them looked upon himself as the superior not only 
of his rivals but even of his predecessors, — an evidence that an 
excess of modesty was not among their foibles or their virtues, 
as it in fact rarely was among any of the poets of the Moslem 
faith. For the rest, however, Djerir seems to have been the 
most successful of the three, and he could boast of himself as 
unsurpassed in every department of poetry, while the rest ex- 
celled only in a special branch. A kassida, composed in honor 
of the caliph, pleased, we are told, the latter so well, that he 
promised the poet five hundred camels for his reward. Djerir, 
however, not satisfied yet, expressed his apprehension, that 
they might run away, unless they had a keeper. u Very well, 
then," replied the caliph, " I'll give you eight slaves to watch 
them." " Then, Emir of the Faithful, I need nothing more 
than a vessel into which to milk them," added the poet, keep- 



16 

ing his eye riveted upon a golden bowl, which he found stand- 
ing in the hall, and the magnanimity of his illustrious patron 
could not well refuse to add this costly present to the rest. 
(Journal Asiatique, 1S34, No. ii., p. IS, 22). 

As a part of the material organization of Moslem poetry we 
must not forget to mention a particular class of men, analogous 
to the jongleurs of the Provencals, by the Arabs called rawias, 
whose business consisted in reciting and disseminating the works 
of their poets among the nation at large. They were accus- 
tomed to move as itinerants from place to place, and their 
rehearsals were devoured by crowds of eager listeners every- 
where. Some of them are reported to have been such prodigies 
of memory, that the stories told of them border on the incredible. 
It will be enough for our purpose to make room for one. Caliph 
Al Walid once happening to ask rawia Hammad how many 
poems he knew by heart, the latter replied: " I can repeat to 
you for every letter of the alphabet one hundred long kassidas, 
all of them rhyming with the letter, to say nothing of the many 
shorter pieces. And all these kassidas are of the pagan age, to 
which I might add many an other from the days of Islam." 
Challenged to verify his boast, he then recited to the caliph's 
representative (for the prince himself might have grown weary 
of the trial) no less than two thousand nine hundred kassidas 
from the pagan time, and was rewarded with the munificent 
present of one hundred thousand dirhems for the feat. 

But not content with the mere recital of their poetry, the 
Arabs also sung much of it, especially the minor pieces, probably 
of the amatory kind, to the sound of various instruments. The 
art of music had anciently been much in vogue among them, 
and although some of the more fastidious believers for a time 
made objections to it from the writings of the Prophet, it yet 
soon not only recovered but even surpassed its former popu- 
larity, and the palaces of the caliphs w T ere resonant with the 
merry notes of the human voice, and of the lute and cithern. 
The number of singers of both sexes during the first century 
and a half was very great, and we have even biographies left of 
many of them. Most of them were either of Persian origin or 
had been educated in their art by Persian masters, to whom the 
Moslems thus probably became indebted for nearly all the new 
improvements in this respect. The most celebrated of these 
singers were Mabed and Assa ul Meila, the latter of whom 
enjoyed the reputation of being the princess of all the players 
on the cithern and the lute, while Mabed w r as allowed to boast 
against a general of having composed the music to seven songs, 



17 

for each of which he claimed an honor superior to that of the 
capture of a fortress ; and so little opposition did his pretension 
meet with, that the seven melodies subsequently acquired the 
appellation of Mabed's fortresses. 

Such then was, briefly, the state of poetry and music 
under the Eastern Caliphate until about the extinction of the 
Ommaiades in A. D. 817. The accession of the next dynasty, 
that of the Abbassides, initiated but a new career of splendor, 
superior even to the first ; but this we are here not at liberty 
to trace, it being now high time for us to turn our attention to 
the West, to the new Caliphate of the Ommaiades at Cordova, 
which from about this date for upward of two centuries divided 
the power and the glory of the Moslem world. Before the 
arrival of Abdurrahman, the Arabs of Spain were too much 
diverted by the war to have much leisure or inclination for 
poetry or any of the fine arts, but under the auspices of this 
prince and his illustrious successors the whole of the civilization 
of the East was successfully transplanted upon western soil, 
where it soon began to rival whatever there was of refinement 
and intelligence, of luxury and splendor at the Eastern court, 
and where it continued to flourish with a few transient inter- 
ruptions until the extinction of the Moorish domination in Spain. 
Before proceeding now to survey the poetry of the West, it will 
not be out of place to give a brief outline of the general state of 
letters and the arts, as cultivated and introduced by the princes 
of this noble line. 

Abdurrahman aiid his immediate successors contributed to 
the material advancement of the nation on the most extensive 
and magnificent scale. During their reign, Cordova grew up 
into the largest city of the West, with its one hundred and thir- 
teen thousand houses (exclusive of the palaces and other public 
buildings), its twenty-eight suburbs and its three thousand 
mosques. In every direction from the city, the valley of the 
Guadalquivir was checkered with palaces and villas, with exten- 
sive gardens and charming places of public resort, inviting' the 
inhabitants to their refreshing shade. A huge bridge was 
thrown across the river, and the immense mosque constructed 
whose grandeur and magnificence were for centuries the object 
of admiration and of pious visit to believers from every portion 
of the world. The court of Abdurrahman II. vied in luxurious 
splendor with that of Bagdad, and at his behest numberless 
palaces, mosques, aqueducts, bridges, and other public works 
arose in rapid succession over every part of Andalusia. Under 
Abdurrahman III., who was the first to assume the title of Caliph 
2 



IS 

of the West, the Kingdom of Andalusia reached its zenith of 
material prosperity, and the genius of this magnanimous prince 
made that prosperity the basis of so high an intellectual culture, 
that the writers of the West and East never grew weary of 
speaking in terms of rapture of his character and influence. 

The general education of the nation, as well as the advance- 
ment of the sciences and arts, was conducted with still greater 
zeal and with the most brilliant success by the next following 
ealiph, Hakem II., under whose auspices the public institutions 
of his kingdom attained to a degree of perfection, such as they 
had never seen before, and such as probably at that time scarce 
existed anywhere else either in the West or East. While in the 
rest of Europe scarcely any one, except the clergy, knew how 
to read and write, Andalusia, and in fact the whole of Moorish 
Spain, had schools without number, in which the art was gen- 
erally taught, and Hakem gave his capital alone twenty-seven) 
for the special purpose of educating the children of the poorer 
classes free of expense. Nor was there any lack of institutions 
of a higher grade; there were numerous academies, generally 
attached to the mosques, at Cordova. Seville, Toledo, Valencia, 
Almeria, Malaga and Jaen, at which the superior disciplines; 
were taught, such as the interpretation of the Koran, philology » 
the mathematics, astronomy, medicine, jurisprudence and phi- 
losophy, and the halls of which attracted both hearers and pro- 
fessors from all parts of the Mohammedan, and after a while 
also from the Christian, world. So general was the taste and 
even the zeal for studies, that as these Spanish institutions were 
frequented by students from the remotest parts of Asia and the 
heart of Germany, the Andalusians on their part would fre- 
quently not shun the hardships of the long journey to the East 
to quench their thirst for knowledge in the lecture-room of 
some distinguished master at Tunis, Cairwan, Cairo, Damascus, 
Bagdad, Mecca, Bassora or Cufa, and there are instances orj 
record in which such learned pilgrimages extended as far as 
India and China, and into the very heart of Africa. 

But not content with the mere viva vox of knowledge, Hakem 
was determined to possess it in a more permanent form ; he 
founded a library for which his agents were commissioned to 
make collections in every part of the world, until the number 
of its volumes, for which he made room in his palace at Cor- 
dova, had risen to the enormous figure of four hundred thousand. 
And all the books of this immense collection, it is asserted, were 
read or consulted by the Caliph himself, and many of them 
enriched with marginal notes from his own hand. The personnel 



19 

of this library included a number of the most skillful copyists 
and binders, who occupied themselves constantly with the 
multiplication or the restoration of the precious manuscripts. 
Hakem's court thus soon became the natural resort for all the 
genius of the nation, and his liberality towards men of letters is 
said to have known no bounds. The intellectual life developed 
under the benign auspices of this prince was therefore naturally 
and in every respect a most brilliant one, and there is no example 
like it anywhere in the Middle Age. Nor was the hadjib or 
chamberlain of Hakem's impotent successor, the great Almansur, 
indifferent to science, but encouraged and rewarded merit in 
every one, except that his religious fanaticism restricted the 
liberty of speech in matters of philosophy, to which before him 
there had been no restraint. 

The capture of Cordova by the Berbers in 1013 scattered 
Hakem's immense collection of books, all of which were then 
either destroyed or sold. The downfall of the Caliphate, how- 
ever, so far from burying beneath its ruins the civilization it 
had so successfully initiated and advanced, gave rise to a new 
period of literary history, in every respect equal, if not supe- 
rior, to that which had preceded. The numerous independent 
states, which formed themselves out of the dismembered empire, 
became as many centres of intellectual light, of learned and 
artistic culture. The small dynasties of Seville, Granada, 
Toledo, Badajoz and Almeria vied with each other in their zeal 
for the advancement of the sciences and arts, and drew within 
their circles crowds of authors, artists and other men of 
genius or talent, which then either received regular salary 
or costly presents for the dedication of their works.* At 
all of these courts, the intellect, even in matters of spec- 
ulative philosophy, enjjyed a degree of freedom, such as 
in some parts of Europe the nineteenth century does not yet 

* In connection with this patronage there was undoubtedly often much 
servility. We have, however, already met with instances of no small 
degree of independence, and the following is one which may well pass for a 
literary curiosity. An eminent philologian by the name of Abu Galib hap- 
pened to attract the attention of Mudjahid the king of Denia, who prom- 
ised him a horse, a superb suit of armor, and one thousand pieces of gold, 
if he would honor him with the dedication of one of his works. But the 
author promptly declined the present together with the honor by saying : 
"I have written my book, to be of service to mankind and to make my 
name immortal ; and why should I now adorn it with the name of another 
and thus transfer the fame of it to him? No! I shall never doit!'' The 
emir, who was a sensible man, no sooner heard of the reply, than, so far 
from being offended, he expressed admiration for the savant's independence, 
and sent him double the amount of the promised gift. 



20 

seem prepared to boast of. Some of the princes of these houses 
themselves participated, like the caliphs, in the general emu- 
lation, and even won celebrity either as poets, philosophers or 
authors of some other kind. Such were, for example, El Mok- 
tadir of Saragossa, El Mutsaffir of Badajoz, some of the Ab- 
badides of Sevilla, of the Benu Somadih of Almeria and others. 
It is true, that this state of things was not unfrequently men- 
aced partly by the advances of the Christian armies, and 
sometimes also by the fanaticism of the Moorish allies called 
in from Africa to aid against them, yet it may nevertheless be 
said to have lasted with no material interruption until the very 
end of the Moslem rule in Spain. Under the Almohades, espe- 
cially under Abdulmunen and his successor Jussuf, Cordova 
once more regained some of its former glory, as a seat of letters 
and a place for books, and about this time its academies could 
boast of men no less eminent than Averroes, Abenzoar and 
Abu Bacer, who long before our own revival of letters drew 
the writings of Aristotle (although, it is maintained, only in 
Syriac translations) from their oblivion, and with their bold 
philosophical researches won themselves not only an immense 
cotemporary celebrity, but a permanent place in the history of 
philosophy. In regard to books, it has been ascertained that 
as late as the thirteenth century the different cities of Anda- 
lusia contained no less than seventy libraries open to the public 
(Journal Asiatique, 183S, No. IV., p. 73). 

When in 1236 the grand mosque of Cordova was sur- 
mounted by the Christian cross and soon after Sevilla also sur- 
rendered to the king of Castile, the dominion of the Arabs 
found itself reduced to much narrower limits, and the kingdom 
of Granada now became the only seat of power left them. 
This little kingdom, however, continued to maintain in the 
most creditable manner the prestige of Moslem civilization in- 
tact for at least two centuries and a half after the fall of Cordova, 
and most of its princes, after the example of Mohammed Ben 
Ahmar, not only zealously kept up their schools and libraries, 
but generously opened their court as an asylum to the many 
unfortunate men of genius or learning expelled from conquered 
quarters. Granada thus still remained, and to the very last, 
the seat of no small degree of literary culture, which was yet 
possessed of vitality enough to survive even the fall of the 
Moorish dominion in Spain for some time after upon the soil of 
Africa. 

The centre and the soul of all this astonishing development 
of intellectual life in Moorish Spain was, we may say it with- 



21 

out exaggeration, poetry, which for at le*\st six centuries was 
cultivated with so much zeal and by so large a number, 
that a mere register of all the Arabic poets of the Penin- 
sula would fill entire folios. The taste for it had by the 
middle of the ninth century already become so general, that 
not only the Arabs, but even some of the Christians subject to 
their sway, occupied themselves with making verses in the 
idiom of Islam. About a century later we already begin to 
meet with anthologies, as for example, " The Gardens" of 
Ibn Ferradj, the two hundred chapters of which (each chapter 
of one hundred distichs) were exclusively devoted to pieces 
from the pens of Andalusian authors. This collection was soon 
followed by numerous others, of which some professed merely 
to complete it, while others made the necessary additions for 
the next following centuries. Such were more especially those 
of Ibn Bessam and of Ibn Chakan, which for a long time 
circulated widely as the most complete and popular. We need 
not be surprised therefore to find, that under influences like 
these poetry should have allied itself so intimately not only 
with the social relations, but even with the daily industrial oc- 
cupations and enterprises of the nation, and that as the princes 
sometimes did not disdain to emulate each other, and even the 
poets in the art of making verses, so the very peasant of the 
field took pleasure in his ingenious improvisations, and the 
man behind, the plough would sometimes boast of his ability 
to spin out his rhymes on any given theme. Among the 
caliphs and the princes the talent, or at any rate the attempt, 
was so general, that there is yet extant a work exclusively de- 
voted to the kings and nobles of Andalusia, who excelled in 
this respect. Nor were the ladies deficient either in ambition 
or success, and the women of the harem not unfrequently con- 
tested the prize with men. Poetical inscriptions upon the 
walls and pillars of the palaces, which were often very ingeni- 
ously executed, constituted one of their most valued ornaments. 
The cavalier needed a verse or two for the blade of his scimitar, 
and. there was no dull novelist or historian who could refrain 
from spicing his pages with some metrical citations or fragments 
of his own. The talent for poetry was not unfrequently the 
passport, by which men from the lowest ranks rose to the high- 
est offices of state, and to princely influence anff fortune. 
Verses were employed to give emphasis or eclat to diplomatic 
transactions ; sometimes they became the signal for bloody 
conflict, as also then again the charm to mitigate the victor's 
wrath. A single happy improvisation is known to have saved 



22 

the life of more than one condemned, and to have burst the 
bolts of prisons. Rhyme-duels between two combatants in the 
presence of their respective armies were among the most com- 
mon occurrences of warfare, while poetic challenges, as an 
exercise of wit, constituted one of the standing amusements of 
daily life. Of epistolary correspondence in verse between 
friends and lovers there is also no lack of evidence. In a word, 
the ability to express one's self in rhyme passed for one of the 
most coveted accomplishments, and the mania insinuated itself 
even into works of science and into papers of state. 

As in the East, so also at Cordova, we meet with several 
poets who made themselves more especially conspicuous at 
court. Under the earlier caliphs, there was, in the first place, 
Yahyah, surnamed also from his personal appearance El Gazal 
(i. e. the gazelle), who was honored with several important 
embassies, and whose polished refinement of manners and con- 
versation made him welcome everywhere. While at Constan- 
tinople, the emperor expressed the wish to retain him in his 
service, but he excused himself by saying that he could 
not keep him company, on account of his inability to 
drink wine with him. One day upon the appearance of the 
empress, he professed himself completely vanquished by her 
charms, which he then went on to celebrate in the most glow- 
ing terms, — a flattery which raised him still higher in the 
estimation of both their majesties. When on another mission 
to the king of the Normans, he produced an equally good im- 
pression by improvising some felicitous verses on the great 
beauty of Queen Theuda. At a later date, however, he was 
obliged to wander into exile on account of some satirical 
verses, which gave offense to Abdurrahman II., and then went 
to Bagdad, where his ingenuity and esprit soon succeeded in 
overcoming completely the fastidious prejudice against the 
poetry of the West, still in vogue there. In connection with 
the court of Abdurrahman II., we have more especially to 
notice a singer by the name of Ziryab from Bagdad, who had 
come to Cordova on special invitation. His reception was of 
the most flattering description ; a superb mansion was assigned 
to him, while his revenue in money and other allowances was 
equal to that of a prince ; and princely also was the display he 
made of it, he never appearing in public without the attend- 
ance of one hundred slaves. But Ziryab was far from being 
a mere singer of the ordinary kind ; he had travelled extensively, 
had studied poetry, astronomy, history, and art, was a man of 
taste and wit, and his conversations on every branch of knowl- 



23 

edge were so fascinating and instructive, that the caliph chose 
him for his most intimate associate. In his own art, he knew 
the words and tunes of ten thousand songs by heart ; and his 
singing was so enchanting, that the report obtained of his 
receiving nightly visitations from genii, instructing him in melo- 
dies. The court of Abdurrahman III. boasted of the names of 
Ibn Abdrebbihi and Mondhir Ibn Said, from the latter of 
whom the caliph received a most important service at the 
reception of an embassy. It once happened that some envoys 
from Constantinople had arrived, and they were received in the 
magnificently decorated hall destined for that purpose. On their 
delivering their credentials and messages in solemn state, the 
caliph called upon the most prominent of his savans present to 
reply in an address commemorating the glory of Islam and 
the honor of the caliphate; but they unfortunately all lost 
their presence of mind and wretchedly failed, when all at once 
our poet rose and delivered a long poetical harangue, by 
which the entire audience was transported with admiration, 
and for which the monarch then munificently rewarded him with 
a high office of state.* Nor w T ere the auspices of Almansur any 
the less favorable to poetry and the poets, in connection with 
whom he kept up regular literary conversazione at his palace, 
and allowed them to accompany him even on his military expe- 
ditions. Such were, for example, Ibn Derradj, Yussuf ar 
Ramadi, and Said, of whom the latter more especially rose to 
high consideration by a variety of pleasing compliments, among 
others by some ingenious couplets composed upon the capture 
of Count Garcia Fernandez of Castile. Said, however, had 
some jealous rivals, who attempted to defame him with the 
charge of plagiarism. But he stood the trial imposed upon 
him by Almansur so much to his credit, as only to receive 
additional honors and rewards for it. 

° In connection with the first caliph, we can scarcely avoid adding the following 
pleasant little anecdote : — Abdurrahman happening to be ill, it was declared neces- 
sary that he should be bled. He was seated in the great hall of the pavilion, which 
surmounted the heights of Az-Zahra, and the physician was just at the point of 
applying his instrument to the caliph's arm, when suddenly a starling came flying 
in, and after alighting upon a golden vase close by, gave utterance to the follow- 
ing verses : 

" thou, who with the laicet art now about to shed the blood of the Emir of 
the Faithful, be careful, mind now, be careful of the illustrious vein, in which the 
life of worlds is circulating !" 

The starling repeated the couplet several times to the great amusement of the 
caliph, who expressed his astonishment and desired to know who taught the bird 
the verses. On learning that Murdshana, the mother of the crown-prince El 
Hakem, was the author of the ingenious device, he rewarded her with a magnificent 
present for the entertainment she had arranged for him. (El Makkari, ed. G-ayan- 
gos, Vol. i., p. 232). 



24 

The dismemberment of the caliphate gave rise to a new 
phase in the literary life of the Moorish birds, and one which 
bore much resemblance to that of the troubadours of Christian 
Europe. The poets now commenced to move from place to 
place, and there was probably no petty court, no castle or 
palace of prince or noble, which did not covet their association, 
and receive them as the honored guests of its refined society. 
This society had now become a much freer one than that which 
existed subject to the restraint of high court etiquette, and it 
was on that account extremely favorable to a generous inter- 
change of thought and to a high degree of intellectual culture. 
The poets had many more Maecenases to celebrate, and the 
latter were rarely wanting in the ambition to appreciate and 
reward them. The charming sky of Andalusia was of itself 
enough to dispose even the obtuser mind to the delightful 
intercourse of song and poesy, and the enchanting moon- 
light-evenings in some sequestered palace garden naturally 
invited to the recital of some fairy Oriental tale or to inge- 
nious poetical improvisations, while the soft evening breezes 
wafted coolness from the fountains and fragrance from the 
flowers around the merry company, or the cup circulated 
freely among them, directed perhaps and socially partaken of by 
the high hand itself that gave the entertainment. The man- 
ners and customs of these small courts were thus in many 
respects identical with those of our own mediaeval chivalry, and 
there are not wanting those who on that account are inclined to 
refer the origin of that institution to the Moslems and the East. 
Without being at all disposed or willing to defend this theory, 
we are yet ready to admit that many of the ideas and principles 
characteristic of chivalry, as for example that of honor and of 
gallantry, may be traced among the Arabs as far back as the 
time of their earliest antiquity. The respect for woman and 
her protection, the glory of perilous achievements, the defense 
of the weak or the oppressed, and the punctilious exaction of 
revenge, constituted the main characteristics of the otherwise 
lawless old Beduin of the desert, and this was the magic circle 
to which his entire life belonged. The chivalry of the 
Moslems, therefore, developed itself doubtless from its own 
resources, and we must also add as incontestable, that the 
spirit and refinement of it showed itself some centuries earlier 
among them than among the warriors of Christian Europe. 

The poetry of Moorish Spain differs upon the whole but 
little, either in point of form or character, from that of the 



25 

East, except perhaps as far as it was modified imperceptibly by 
the influence of climate and of sky, and that not only because 
there was identity of origin, but also because the intellectual 
commerce between the colony and the mother country was, 
as we have seen, an uninterrupted and often a very lively one. 
Now this may be asserted as correct in spite of the circum- 
stance that the same can not be affirmed of the language, which 
in the mouth of the Andalusian soon lost so much of its native 
purity as gradually to degenerate into an ungrammatical dialect, 
so that the Beduin of the desert (who by the way always 
remained the authority of it) might have found fault with 
the speech of a Moor in other respects much superior to him. 
The fact was, that the deterioration in question affected rather 
the speech than the written language of the Spanish Moslem, 
who in his youth was made familiar, not only with his Koran, 
but quite commonly also with his grammar and the poets, and 
if he made pretentions to superior education would have 
incurred the censure of good society, had he no f - been able 
to recite at least a certain number (and this was not un- 
frequently quite considerable) of elegant extracts from the 
classical writers of his nation in poetry and prose. If he pro- 
fessed to be a poet, or intended to become one, he would 
subject himself to a severer discipline and a more extensive 
course on literature, nor would he ever consider himself at 
liberty to neglect his Hamasa or his Muallakat. We need not 
therefore be surprised to find that the poets of the West 
generally showed no lack either of correctness or of elegance, and 
that the most prominent of their number never failed of being 
recognized by theii rivals in the East, as in every respect their 
peers. Ibn Zeidun thus acquired the epithet of " the 
Bothori of the West," while Ibn Hani, Ar-Remmadi and Ibn 
Derradj were each of them honored as " the Montenebbi of the 
Occident," and Montenebbi himself, on hearing the poems 
of a Spaniard recited, is said to have exclaimed with enthu- 
siastic admiration : " This people is really possessed of genius 
for poetry !" # 

The subjects treated by the poets of the West no longer 
revolve within the narrow circle of the Beduins of the desert, but 
correspond in point of variety and multiplicity with the expand- 
ed relations of a more advanced civilization. The different 

•• Montenebbi wrote very early in life, and his conceit at one time misled him 
into aspiring after a new prophetship (whence his name the " Pretender to the 
Prophetship"). He found himself, however, three centuries too late, and was 
obliged to remain content a poet. And he nevertheless really was one in every 
sense. 



26 

collections therefore offer us multitudes of pieces of every de- 
scription and dimension, and from numberless authors,— lays 
of the chivalrous and amatory kind, poems relating to the sacred 
wars, panegyrics and satires, pieces descriptive of nature or of 
works of art, elegies and religious poems, drinking-songs, epi* 
grams, besides a variety of popular forms and miscellaneous 
specimens that can not well be classified. We now propose to 
pass the most important of these rubrics briefly in review. 

The position of woman in the society of Moslem Spain seems 
to have been a freer one than elsewhere among the Mohamme- 
dans, and she was permitted to be a sharer of the whole intel- 
lectual culture of her time. Hence we find quite a number of 
those who either won distinction in the sciences or vied with the 
men in the art of making poetry. This superiority of educa- 
tion gave rise to a degree and kind of respect such as the East 
scarcely knew, where the sentiment of love, for example, was 
almost exclusively based on merely physical charms, and the 
relation between the sexes thus became a much superior one. 
Talent and knowledge were regarded as attractions in no 
respect inferior to those of personal beauty, and it was not tui- 
frequently the case that a common taste for music or poetry con- 
stituted an intimate bond of union between two hearts. We need 
not therefore be surprised, when in the amatory poetry of the 
Spanish Arabs we occasionally meet with an intensity of feeling, 
a mixture of impetuous passion and of tender melancholy, such as 
our Middle Age scarcely can produce an instance of, and which 
is much closer allied to the sentimentality of modern times. 
Ne/ertheless, however true all this may be, we will yet not 
undertake to deny that much of the amatory poetry of the Moors 
is pervaded by the voluptuous element to a much greater ex- 
tent than good taste is now willing to admit, and we shall 
on that account not dwell on it. We will content ourselves 
with a few specimens of the purer sort. 

The following love-epistle addressed to his lady-love by 
Prince Izzuddaulais destitute neither of ingenuity nor of deli- 
cacy of sentiment : 

" In mourning and with longing sighs have I composed for thee this let* 
ter, my love ; and had my heart bat courage, how fain would I myself be- 
come the bearer of my message." 

"Imagine, in perusing now these lines, myself as coming from a distance, 
and the black letters to be the pupils of my own dark eyes." 

"Permit my kisses to be imprinted on the little note, the seal of which, 
dearest one on earth, is destined presently to be dissolved by thy white, 
tender fingers." (Dozy^s Recherches, p. 111.) 



27 

The following ghasel from the pen of Crown-prince Ab- 
durrahman has reference to the idea of meeting iu dreams, 
quite frequently treated by the Moorish poets : 

"Let her be greeted, who never deigned to requite me with a solitary 
word ; who never to the warmest salutations of my heart sent me the least 
consoling answer." 

"Let the gazelle be greeted, who thus reciprocates my inclination as 
cruelly to transfix me with her looks, which wound like lightly feathered 
arrows." 

"Ah, she has never given me hope or balm to heal my aching sorrow, 
has never to my slumbers sent her lovely image to encourage." (Von Schack, 
vol. i., p. 120.) 

To Said Ibn Djudi, a poet of the ninth century, we are in- 
debted for a few couplets which in delicacy of sentiment could 
not be put below many of those of the troubadours or minne- 
singers of the twelfth and thirteenth : 

" Since I have heard her voice, my soul has fled from me ; the enchanting 
sound has left me but regrets and sorrow/' 

" I think of her, and ever but of her, my dear Djehana; we never met, 
my eyes beheld her never, and yet I made her a surrender of this heart." 

" Her dearly cherished name, which I prize above all, I'll now invoke with 
tear-dew in my eyes, as the monk calls on the image of his saint." 

The pain of separation is thus celebrated in a few verses 
from the pen of Abui Fadhl Iyad : 

"Since I beheld thee last, I've been a bird with broken pinions. Ah, 
could I but wing my way to thee beyond the sea; for our separation will be 
the cause of death to me." (Dozy's Histoire, vol. ii., p. 228.) 

Ibn Hazem, one of the celebrated names of the eleventh 
century, has left us not only a variety of couplets belonging to 
this rubric, but also a most charming account of an early love, 
evincing a delicacy and simplicity of feeling not unworthy of 
the time of Boccaccio or Goethe. This Arabic novella, for which 
we are sorry we have no room here, may be found in Dozy's 
Histoire, vol. iii., p. 344, seq.,* and in Von Schack, vol. i., p. 
10S-114. 

Abu Aamir was an Andalusian poet, and Hind a lady of 
no less distinguished talent for poetry and music. Aamir had 
collected a little party about him (doubtless in some enchant- 
ing spot, for he speaks of the notes of nightingales around him), 
and there was nothing wanting to complete their satisfaction 
but the presence and the lute of Hind. Aamir therefore sent her 

° The really classical love-story of the Arabs, however, and one to which the 
poets frequently allude as familiar to every one, is the extremely touching and 
idyllic history of Djemil and Botheina which originated in the desert, probably 
during the first half century of the Caliphate. It is reported by Ibn Challikan, 
ed. de Slane, 169, and also by Von Schack, vol. i., p 37. 



2S 

a polite poetical epistle inviting her to come, and to assure her 
of good company, promised her not only devout listening, but 
also the absence of every drink but water. Hind replied on 
the back of the letter, in the same measure and with the same 
number of verses, expressing her readiness to be present at so 
intellectual a reunion. 

Almansur once sat in company with Vizier Abul Mogira in 
the garden of his magnificent country palais Zahira, and while 
both were taking their ease over their wine they all at once heard 
a fair voice commencing the couplets of a plaintive amorous 
ditty. Xow it so happened that the voice was not unfamiliar 
to either of them ; for Almansur recognized it as that of the 
one he loved, while the vizier knew her to have a passion for 
himself. Abul Mogira therefore could not help referring the 
impassioned words of the fair singer to himself, and he was so 
imprudent as to reply to her in a few equally enamored coup- 
lets of his own. Almansur was infuriated, and thundered out 
the terrible inquiry : " Confess to me the truth, fair wretch ! 
was the vizier here the object of thy song ?" The lady did not 
hesitate to admit her predilection and appealed to his magna- 
nimity for pardon ; she did so in a new series of verses, which 
she recited amid tears. Almansur now turned his anger 
towards the vizier, and loaded him with reproaches. The lat- 
ter, however, although admitting his error, excused himself by 
saying that he could not help it, each one being the slave of 
his inevitable Fate, and his own in this instance happening to 
have been that he should love one he was not permitted. Al- 
mansur remained silent for a while, but finally magnanimously 
replied : " Very well ! then I must pardon both of you. Abul 
Mogira, the lady belongs to you ; I surrender her to you." 

Hafsa,one of the fair poetesses of Granada, celebrated alike 
for her great beauty and her talent, had formed a sort of pla- 
tonic liaison with the poet Djafer. But, unfortunately, the 
governor of Granada had also an eye upon her, and had be- 
come so jealous as to seek to destroy his rival. She was there- 
fore obliged to use great caution, and when her friend once asked 
her for an interview she hesitated two months with her answer. 
Meanwhile Djafer, not knowing what to make of her long si- 
lence, wrote her a poetical epistle, siill extant and full of ten- 
der melancholy and despair. The letter, which the author sent 
through his slave Assam, had no sooner reached, than the 
lady at once replied in the same metre and in the same rhyme, 
endeavoring to dispel his gloom and assuring him, that if he 
knew the ground of her reticence, he would cease to accuse 



29 

her. Hafsa gave her answer to the same slave that had 
brought the letter, but in dismissing him she artfully treated 
him so roughly, heaping reproaches upon him and his master 
both, that the poor messenger on his return bitterly complained 
of rudeness. The poet, however, on opening the epistle, found 
just the contrary, not only ample apology, but even the ap- 
pointment of a rendezvous in his garden, and on that account 
pronounced his slave insensate. Presently the two really met 
in Djafer's garden, and when the latter was about to make re- 
proaches, Hafsa hushed him by improvising: "Enough, that 
we are here together, and silent as in days gone by." (El 
Makkari, ed. Gayangos, vol. ii., p. 540.) 

Abu Arar of Malaga, once happening upon a promenade 
about the precincts of his native city to meet Abdul Wahab, a 
great amateur of poetry, was asked by the latter to repeat 
for him some verses. He recited as follows : 

" She has deprived Aurora of her blooming cheeks ; she has received her 
slender form in feoff from Irak's fair-proportioned stem?. 

11 She threw away her jewels to choose for her a better ornament, and put 
the stars about her neck, like strings of pearls, all bright and luminous." 

" And not content with the light, graceful shape of the gazelle, she robbed 
the little animal of the sweet brightness of its eye besides." 

Abdul Wahab had no sooner heard these verses than he burst 
out into an exclamation of admiration and fell to the ground 
like one in a swoon. On recovering, he said : " Pardon me, 
my friend ! There are two things, which always put me beside 
myself, so that I no longer remain master of my senses* They 
are, the aspect of a fair countenance and the voice of genuine 
poetry." (El Makkari, ed. Gayangos, vol. ii., p. 274, and Von 
Schack, vol. i., p. 240.) 

In connection with this branch of Arabic poetry, we must 
not omit the names of Ibn Zeidun, one of the most eminent 
Andalusian poets, born about 1003, and of his Wallada, the 
fair and highly accomplished princess loved by him and cele- 
brated in his verses. Ibn Zeidun's great talents had quite 
early in life elevated him to a very high position at the court of 
Ibn Djahwar, who after the downfall of the caliphate was for 
some time in power at Cordova. The poet enjoyed the most 
intimate confidence of his master for a great while and was 
honored with several missions to some of the smaller courts of 
Andalus. But he had also jealous rivals, and their machina- 
tions after a while succeeded in effecting his disgrace. The 
cause of this misfortune is supposed to have been his relations 
with Princess Wallada, who, as an enthusiast for poetry and 



30 

herself a clever writer of verses, had great respect for our poet 
and openly preferred him to all the rest of her admirers. To 
one of these her conduct gave so much offense, that he medi- 
tated revenge and resorted to calumnies, for which after awhile 
he gained admittance to the ear of the commander. The con- 
sequence was, that our late influential favorite was thrown into 
a dungeon, and there remained confined, in vain attempting 
through the mediation of a friend to recover the favor of his 
angry patron. Yet he succeeded, after some efforts, in making 
his escape from prison, and after having kept himself concealed 
at Cordova for a while, he finally fled to the western part of 
Andalusia. But the pain of separation from his Wallada and 
the desire of living; somewhere in her proximity- did not suffer 
him long to remain so far away, and he therefore soon returned 
to Az-Zahra, one of the half-ruined palaces of the Ommaiades 
near Cordova, where he entertained some hope of at least occa- 
sionally meeting with the madonna of his heart. He next led 
a sort of erratic life, travelling at random through the different 
provinces of Spain, until he at last settled permanently at Sev- 
ille, where El Motadid received the weary wanderer with cor- 
diality and honored him with princely confidence until the year 
of his death, in 1071. 

The Arabic anthologists are all of them extremely prodigal 
of their hyperbolies in praise of Ibn Zeidun's charming ghasels, 
which they maintain possessed of a power such as no magic 
ever owned, and of a sublimity with which the stars could 
never vie. And we must recollect that most of this poetry, 
which was composed at different times and from different places, 
had reference to his relations with Wallada, whom, as long as 
he lived, he continued to celebrate with the profound devotion 
of our modern Petrarch, and with the restlessness of Childe 
Harold. We have thus another instance of a closer approxi- 
mation to modern times than to the Christian poetry of the 
Middle Age, and we have only to regret that our limits will not 
allow us to produce in evidence some specimens (Von Schack 
vol. i., p. 300-314). 

One of the most prolific and attractive themes of the poets 
of the West was the sacred wars of the Peninsula, in which the 
Moors were perpetually engaged, and in which they evinced 
scarcely any less ardor and self-sacrificing devotion than the 
Christians. These wars lasted for more than seven centuries 
with alternating success, which, however, at first, before and 
during the caliphate, was generally on the side of the Moslems, 



31 

while after the fall of the Ommaiades the Christians gradually 
and steadily won more and more of the ascendant. But such was 
the pertinacity of Islam, that its existence on the soil of Spain 
was no sooner periled than new hordes of fanatical barbarians 
came streaming to its succor from Africa, and the contest be- 
came only so much the more fierce and destructive. There is 
thus scarcely a foot of ground on the Peninsula that was not 
moistened with the blood of the crusaders of both parties, and 
the number of those who fell in terrible battles like those of 
Zalaca, Alarcos, las Navas de Tolosa and others, amounted to 
hundreds of thousands, all of them firmly persuaded, on the one 
hand, of earning heaven with their devotion to the cross, 
and on the other of meriting Mohammed's Paradise as 
martyrs. The war, although originally one of conquest, yet 
after a while became a purely religious one on both sides, and 
on that account offers us a variety of curious points of contrast 
and resemblance. While the Christians scarcely ever prepared 
for a decisive engagement without on the eve of it celebrating 
the mysteries of the passion and partaking of the sacrament, 
the Mohammedans would on their part under the same circum- 
stances spend entire nights in prayer and go on long pilgrim- 
ages to Mecca, to sue for the privilege of dying for their faith 
the death of martyrs. It was one of their traditions, that every 
one wounded in one of these battles would on the day of judg- 
ment appear with his wound bleeding ; but this blood would 
be real blood only in color, and would exude a fragrance simi- 
lar to musk. Nor was there any want of miracles on these 
occasions. On the eve of the battle of Alarcos, Abu Yussuf, 
after having spent the night on his knees, saw in his morning- 
dream a knight mounted on a snow-white charger descending 
from the sky with an immense green banner in his hand, who 
presently announced himself as an angel from the seventh 
heaven, coming from Allah to bring his faithful warriors victory. 
On the part of the Christians, it was Saint Iago, on whose pa- 
tronage they mainly relied, and he was in more than one emer- 
gency more terrible than thunder and lightning to the Moors, 
who fled in terror and confusion whenever he was at hand. 

Let us now see what the poets have to say about these wars, 
in which they themselves acted no inconsiderable part; and 
with what accents they at one time seek to enlist for the stand- 
ard of the Prophet, and at another either celebrate a victory or 
give vent to lamentations over a defeat. 

The following may serve as a specimen of the Arabic yrezicansa 
or poetical exhortation to the sacred war, in which we will not 



32 

fail to perceive at least as much earnestness and unction as in 
most of those of the Provencals. The author of it is Abu 
Omar, the secretory of Ibn ul Ahmar, king of Grannda, at 
whose request it was composed and read to Sultan Abu Yussuf, 
to inspire the latter with new zeal for the war against the ene- 
mies of the faith. Its date is 1275, and we may add, that at 
that time the greater part of the Peninsula had already been 
subjected by the Christians. 

"Here lies the path of safety. Is there one, be it in Spain, or be it in 
Africa, willing to enter it? who dreads Gehenna's flames, the torments of the 
damned, and longs for the eternal bliss of Paradise, where cooling shades and 
fountains are reserved for him ? Thou, who art eager for victory in this our 
struggle for the faith, obey the impulse of thy heart! Go, armed with hope 
and confidence to meet salvation: and since thy cause is noble, there will 
be success. . . . Delay not ; for who can assure thee of thy life to-morrow ? The 
time of death is never known to us; but rest assured, thou never shalt es- 
cape the payment of the debt from which no mortals are exempt. If not to- 
day, thou yet must soon expect to leave thy place. The. journey before thee is 
difficult, and one from which there can be no return. Be up then, and to ease 
the hardship of the road, supply thyself with an abundance of good works ! 
And recollect, the first and most important of pious works is this our sacred 
war for the maintainance of our faith. Improve then the precious opportu- 
nity, and move at once to combat on the soil of Andalus. For God loves and 
rewards the one who dedicates himself to such a fight." . . . 

"Who follows the example of the Prophet? . . . "Who's ready now to 
flee to God, and by combating for him to purge his soul of the contamination 
of his sins? Can ye take pleasure in the cities of the enemy, which do not 
pray to Allah? Will ye endure it, to be derided by the believers in three 
gods, who hate us for firmly adhering to but one ? What have we not 
already suffered from the rabble ! How many mosques of our land have 
been converted into churches! 0, the disgrace! Do ye not die from 
the chagrin, when ye are witnesses to it! The bell hangs now on our 
minaret; the priest is seen standing On its roof, and wine flows in the 
house of Allah, alas! nor is the voice of the believer any longer heard in it. 
•. . . How many men of our nation, how many women, are languishing in 
chains among them, longing in vain for ransom from their dark dungeons ! 
How many maidens, who in their distress can see no savior but their death, 
are mourning desolate in Christian cities! How many children, whose 
parents weep for having given life to little ones to be tormonted !...', How 
many martyrs, laid low by the sword, have not, as corpses of wounds without 
number, covered the battle-grounds ! The angels of heaven will on beholding 
it drop tears of sorrow, nor can meh whose heart is not of rock, be witnesses 
to all this misery without compassion. . . . Do ye not recollect our old al- 
liance, our consanguinity IV. . Arid were the Chi istians ever too indolent to 
unsheath their swords, when vengeance called for it? Alas! the pride of 
Islam is extinct, — tfyat pride, which once so nobly glowed. Why do ye hes- 
itate thus in despair ? Do ye expect a sword to wound, unless ye draw it'? 1 ' 

"You are our neighbors, ye Merinides ; let therefore now your succor be 
the first ! The war for our common faith is your first, highest and most sa- 
cred duty. Neglect it not ! And choose one of the two, the glory of victory 
or martyrdom ! Then will the Lord vouchsafe you rich reward, and fairest 
maidens will receive you in his heaven. The black-eyed hurl's of his Para- 
dise above are even now ready to bid you welcome! Who then will oifer 



33 

himself now as Allah's combatant ? Who'll purchase of him heaven's eternal 
boon? Allah has pledged protection to the faith, and never has his word 
been broken. ... Ye are God's host, strong enough, if ye but will it, to sub- 
due the world ; and for the true religion can ye now but sigh and silently 
lament instead of acting? How could ye dare to appear before the Prophet, 
if lie were to invite you now? Have ye excuses, were he to say to you: 
1 Why did ye not succor my people in distress, when it was so maltreated by 
the enemy?' Could ye escape the punishment, were ye with shame to 
hear this from his lips ? Beseech him therefore to remain your mediator on 
the dread day of judgment, and fight now valiantly for his faith ! Then he'll 
conduct you, brethren, safely to the pure limpid fountains of his Paradise." 
(Ibn Chaldun, vol. ii., p. 288 ; Von Schack, vol. i., p. 155.) 

Another, and in many respects even a more eloquent and 
elevated kassida of the sort was composed by Ibn ul Abbar, 
who, when in 1238 Valencia was sorely distressed by the Chris- 
tians, was commissioned by the alcayde of the city to go to 
Africa to the court of Abu Zekeria, one of the most powerful 
of its princes, to solicit his assistance. Our poet-ambassador 
had no sooner arrived than he recited his kassida in the presence 
of the entire court, on which, we are told, it produced so deep an 
impression that the prince at once conceded the] desired succor 
by sending a well-armed fleet to operate upon the Spanish 
coast. 

Nor is there any lack of kassjdas commemorating the victo- 
ries achieved by the Moslem arms of Spain and the glory of the 
chiefs that conducted them. When Abu Yussuf, for example, 
directly after the battle of Ecija, was entering Algesiras, he 
received from the prince of Malaga a poetical address congrat- 
ulating him upon his victory. We have here room only for a 
few passages from it : 

" The four winds have already brought us tidings of thy victories, and 
the stars, as they rise in the East, have been the messengers of thy success. 
The space was narrow for all the angelic host which brought thee help, O 
chief, and the wide battle-field did not contain them, while from the circling 
spheres above the song resounded: 'The Lord shall be thy succor in all 
thy plans.' The life, which each of us would gladly purchase with his own, 
thou hast thyself devoted to the service of the Highest, the Eternal One ! 
Thou tookst the field for His religion, protecting it, relying on the prowess 
of thy unbending mind, as on a sword ; gloriously was then thy undertaking 
crowned by thy successful army, and thou hast now achieved a work which 
never shall be dissipated into naught. . . . How majestic is thy army. 
O prince, when in the roaring din of battle the swarm of eager chargers 
surges onward, and the lances break and whistle all around! Thou art 
God's legate, leading his sacred cause, and his protecting eye is therefore 
ever upon thee; may it never fail watching! Thou hast adorned the faith 
with new, unfading splendor, and time will not bo able to rob thee of the 
honor cf such lofty deeds! . . . May He, whose faith thy sword 
defended, in his benignity now shield thee against every harm, and may he 
so abundantly upon thy head his blessings shower, that their fragrance may 
endure as long as time shall last." (Von Schack, vol. i., p. 153.) 
3 



34 

The laments over the reverses of Islam are no less eloquent, 
and sometimes extremely delicate and pathetic. Such are, for 
example, those relating to the loss of cities, like Valencia, Seville, 
and others, for a specimen of which we refer the reader to 
FauriePs History of Provencul Poetry (English translation), 
page 454, and to the "Journal Asiatique," vol. iv. of the First 
Series. 

While the Spanish Moslems were thus celebrating their 
heroic exploits with all the studied rhetoric and gorgeous 
imagery of the Orientals, the rest of Europe was scarcely beyond 
the crudest beginnings of poetry, with the single exception of 
the Provencals, who at an early date commenced to rival their 
antagonists in spirited compositions relating to the sacred war. 
The Castillian was not sufficiently advanced for any such pur- 
pose, and its earliest crude tentatives, the ballads on the Cid do, 
not date farther back than the twelfth century, and could in 
point of art not be approached to the elaborate finish of the 
Arabs. In speaking here of the renowned champion of the 
Spanish romanzas* we cannot refrain from noticing in a few 
words the great contrast between the Arabic and Christian 
accounts of him. While among the latter Cid Ruy Diaz el 
Campeador (as his full name reads), is invariably represented as 
the model of every chivalric virtue, kind, affable, honorable, and 
always loyal even toward his unjust king, the Arabs give him 
the character of a perfidious and cruel barbarian, who fought 
neither for his king nor his faith, but in the service of some of 
he small Mohammedan princes. In this light he appears more 
especially in connection with the siege of Valencia, which he 
conducted, and where, after its surrender, he perpetrated the 
most atrocious barbarities, condemning the alcayde to the stake, 
and menacing his wife and daughters with the same. " This 
terrible calamity," says the account, "filled all classes of society 
with pain and shame. Nevertheless the power of the tyrant 
kept constantly increasing and rested heavily on hill and dale, 
inspiring all the inhabitants of the Peninsula with dread. . . . 
And yet this man, who was the scourge of his time, was, in 
respect to ambition, sagacity, and firmness of character, one of 
the miracles of God. He died shortly after at Valencia a natu- 
ral death." (Dozy's Recherches, and Von Schack, vol. i. 
p. 161-171.) 

We have already more than once alluded to the encomi- 
astic poetry of the Arabs, which they were so often called 
upon to write in honor of their princes, and of which in the 



35 

course of centuries there must have been an enormous num- 
ber of pieces. We Lave now a word or two to add upon 
this point It is a singular fact that in these compositions 
the poets of every period of their history adhere much more 
closely to the classical models of the Muallakat than in any 
other, and that on that account the reminiscences of the old 
poetry are made to occupy so conspicuous a place as some- 
times to be entirely out of proportion with the object pro- 
posed. Descriptions of nomadic life, idyllic love-scenes, or 
amorous laments are therefore scarcely ever wanting, and 
it sometimes seems as if the poets of Andalusia's luxurious 
courts and enchanting landscapes were nevertheless longing for 
the old desert as for a better home. The princes themselves 
are not unfrequently addressed as if they were nomadic chiefs, 
and the poet likewise speaks of himself as of an Arab of the olden 
time. These preliminary amplifications often occupy so much 
of the kassida as to leave but a subordinate place for the enco- 
mium proper, whieh generally comes in at the end. In the 
panegyric portion, in which the poet seeks to celebrate the 
valor, the liberality and princely splendor of his patron, his 
naturally incurs the danger of becoming artificial, extravagant, 
or even bombastic; but although this is really the case with 
many, we are perhaps no less often surprised with an energy of 
expression and a boldness of imagery which we must recognise 
as classical. Let the following verses, addressed by Abdrebbihi 
to Abdurrahmanlll. prior to his assuming the title of caliph, 
serve as an example .1 

" The Lord in his benignity has opened widely now the way to Islam, 
.and men are -pressing, crowd upon crowd, on towards the road of mercy. On 
their behalf .the Earth adorns herself for fairer habitation, and shines 
resplendent as if arrayed in silk. The cloud, O caliph-son, would cease to 
rain, were it to witness the kindly munificence, with which thou know'st to 
bless ; and were the war to see thee leading thy hosts to battle, it would des- 
pair of stirring equal eourage in others' breast. Before thee heresy falls pros- 
irate and suppliant upon the ground; and since thou ralest, the horses willingly 
obey thy reins. The victory, prince, is tied indissolubly to thy standards, 
when or by niglit or noonday they float before thee in the breeze of 
thy career; and thy refusal will rouse the caliphate to anger, if thou, the 
«cion of the illustrious line., dost not thyself put on thy head the crown of 
■the great Emir of the Faithful." (Von Schack, Vol. i., p! 200.) 

To this specimen we may be permitted to add another, ad- 
(dressed by Ibn Hani to some other prince. It is, however, 
jmuch moxe hyperbolical : 

"Before .thy horses, when they storm onward to .the assault, there are.no 
hills, no mountains, however lofty they may tower up. They're known by 
Laing always foremost in the race, -but no eye ever can pursue them, as they 



36 

advance. The lightning knows of them, that they ride on its wings, and that 
in swiftness they excel even thought. The clouds, which towards the north 
our down their fullest streams, are vanquished into shame before thy mag- 
nanimity's abundant showers. Thy right hand seems to touch and guide the 
\ ery stars of heaven, as they emerge from lowering clouds of rain." (Ibn 
Challikan, ed. de Slane.) 

One of the most distinguished poetical representatives of Gra- 
nada was Ibn ul Chatib, from whose pen we have an entire 
divan of verses left us. He was prime minister and vizier to 
both Abul Hadjadj and his son Mahommed V., several times 
ambassador, and upon Mohammed's dethronement his compan- 
ion and eloquent advocate at the court of Fez. To this court 
he had some time before been sent on a mission, to implore, in 
behalf of his master, Sultan Abu-Inan, for aid against the Chris- 
tians, and this aid he obtained together with many compliments 
and presents by the recital of a poetical address, of which the 
following is the purport : 

u Legate of Allah ! may thy renown augment and exalt itself, as long as 
the moon's placid rays dispel night's darkness, and may the Supreme Ruler 
of our fate in his benignity ever defend thee, when dangers lower against 
which human power proves unavailing. Thy countenance dispels the mid- 
night gloom, which sorrow casts around us, and thy hand showers refresh- 
ment on him who languishes distressed ! Long since would our people have 
been expelled from Andalusia's lovely plains, hadst thou not with thy host 
dispensed abundant succor. But one thing now is needful for our Spain, 
potent commander, — but this one, — that thou shouldst send without delay thy 
array to our strand, to save us and to avert the threatening cloud." (Ibn 
Chaldun, Histoire des Berberes, vol. ii., and Yon Sehack, vol. i., p. 335.) 

The satire was scarcely any less zealously cultivated by the 
Arabs of Spain than the panegyric, and their kassidas ot this 
category are often so elaborately constructed as to be a running 
parody on the eulogistic. Their satire, however, is rarely objec- 
tive, that is to say, levelling at the vices or foibles of men in 
general, but almost invariably personal and determined by spe- 
cial situations or events. The weapon was, therefore, a gene- 
rally dreaded one, and yet it is remarkable to observe, how often 
and with what degree of license the poets made use of it, not 
only against each other or their equals, but even against the 
mightiest of those in power. We thus find Hisham's impotent 
administration sorely castigated, in spite of the terror of its 
dreaded regent Almansur, and El Motadid of Seville is ruth- 
lessly caricatured by Ibn Ammar in a long kassida in the shape 
of a regular parody on the encomiastic. In a shorter piece, 
directed against a member of his own craft, Ibn Ocht Ganim 
advises him " not to be so impudent as to sip of the drink of 
which he is not worthy, and not to soil the noble art of poetry 



37 

with kisses from his lips." From this we must not imagine, 
however, that the poet was always safe in the employment of so 
perilous a weapon. Ibn Ammar wassubsequently cruelly assas- 
sinated, although for another much graver offense, by El Mota- 
did's son, while Abul Makshi, as we shall presently see, lost 
both his eyes on account of some offensive allusions to a prince 
of the time of Abdurrahman I. 

That the charming sky and the enchanting landscapes of 
Andalusia did not fail to produce their effect on the imagina- 
tion of the Moorish poets is manifest from a great diversity of 
pieces descriptive partly of scenes and other objects of nature, 
partly of some of its numberless works of human art. Andalusia 
itself is sung in terms of the most glowing eulogy, and lauded 
as the terrestrial representative of Paradise. We meet with 
verses on the rivers, the Guadalquivir and the Guadix, on the 
rock of Gibraltar, on moonlit evenings amid fairy gardens or 
ruined palaces, on the orange-groves of Seville, on flowers, 
stars, landscapes and fountains, in short, on every thing which 
the poet's fancy could invest with interest or life. Boating- 
excursions on the rivers, especially of a calm clear night, are 
frequently dwelt upon with manifest delight. There is scarcely 
a variety of flowers, on which there are not some ingenious 
verses, especially on the violet, which to the Andalusian was 
the harbinger of an eternal spring. If the object described 
happened to be a work of art, such as a palace, the verses, if 
they were especially approved, were inscribed in letters of gold 
upon the walls of the monument thus celebrated, as we may at 
this day yet see them in some of the villas of Sicily or in the 
halls of the Alhambra. 



In spite of the prohibitions of their religion, the Moslems of 
Spain seem nevertheless to have been any thing but abstinent 
of wine, and, if we may credit the poets, to have passed the 
cup freely at every hour of the day, sometimes even early in 
the morning. But their drinking seems to have been rarely 
solitary or intemperate ; it was rather convivial and linked to 
social merriment, to poetry and music. This is evident from 
their many drinking-songs, some of which are extremely 
spirited and lively, and not unfrequently a jovial defiance of the 
law. ThusElMotadid proposes a new commandment, enjoining 
on all true believers to drink early in the morning, instead 
of listening to the muezzin, and Ibn Hazmun somewhat waggish- 



3S 

ly derides the anchorites and dervishes on account of their 
hypocrisy in this respect. 

''The use of wine is in itself no crime ; the crime is but the terror of the 
law, or else even: our dervishes would dare to moist en their dry palates 
with the cup/* 

a When during the night they've muttered prayers until their throat9 
are hoarse and sore; say, do they not themselves then reel like wanton 
camels o'er the sand?" 

" My house is therefore like their cells ; yet maidens, slender as 
gazelles, are my muezzins, and I use cups to light it, instead of lamps.'''' 
(Von Schack, vol. i., p. 218.) 

That the Moorish poets, however, gay, light and fanciful as they 
naturally were, could yet also be of a much graver tone of mind 
is evidenced by a multitude of elegies and pieces of a religious 
turn, of which not a few must be ranked among thefr most 
finished and successful compositions. From some of thein we 
have poetical prayers, which often evince no little earnestness 
and depth of feeling combined with great beauty of execution $ 
from others religious couplets of a different sort, as for example, 
verses which the poet would write before his death with the 
request of having them inscribed upon his tomb ; and of these 
pieces some are considerably longer and more elaborate than 
the mere epigram. Reflections upon the instability of human 
life, repentance over past offenses, and hope in a divine mercy 
most generally constitute the simple circle of ideas within? 
which they moved. That many of these compositions must 
have been highly prized and even used as prayers is evident 
from As-Suhaili r s assertion in reference to one composed by 
himself, of which he says every one that had made use of it 
to ask God for some favor had met with the fulfilment of his 
wishes. We have room here for a few of the concluding, 
verses i 

" I have no other refuge but that of knocking at thy door ; and if thou 
cpcnest not, then I stand powerless and hopeless in my woe. Lord,. 
whose name I praise now and invoke in- prayer, if thou dost not vouch- 
safe to grant thy servant what he sues- for now, do not on that account 
plunge the poor sinner into complete despair; for boundless is thy benignity 
and infinite thy mercy." (Ibn Challikan, art. As--Suhaili.) 

In the department of the elegy we might produce a host of 
specimens, had we space for them ', but we must be contented 
with a few. A very beautiful one of upward of fifty verses 
adorns, in the shape of an epitaph, the tombstone of Abdul 
Hadjadj Yussuf, one of the kings of Granada, who fell by the 
hand of an assassin while in the act of prayer at the mosque. 



39 

It is quite symmetrical in its composition and commemorates 
in many a pathetic distich the nobility, the virtues, the valor 
and achievements of the deceased, and his untimely fate. A 
few verses of it may suffice : 

11 In the flower of his manhood and at the zenith of his power he was made 
to fall, like Omar, by the decrees of Heaven. There is no blade, no lance, on 
which we can depend as a protection against the will of Allah, and every 
one who builds upon the fleeting vanities of earth, will, undeceived, at last 
perceive that he has built on sand. Therefore, O Ruler of the kingdom 
which has no end ; Thou, who commandest every one of us and predeter- 
minest his lot, vouchsafe to spread the veil of thy benignity over all our 
faults ! For, without thy compassion we all would have to tremble before 
our guilt. And lead the Emir of the Faithful, enveloped by the robe of thy 
boundless mercy, into the mansions of eternal bliss. True happiness and life 
that never ends can only be found with thee, O Allah ! The world is but 
an evanescent show, which, as it deceives, destroys itself." (Von Schack, 
vol. i. p. 213.) 

An elegv on his own blindness was composed by the unfor- 
tunate Abul Makshi, who lived at the time of Abdurrahman L, 
and was most cruelly deprived of his eyes at the command of 
Prince Suleiman for having in some verses addressed to him allow- 
ed himself some offensive allusions to his brother Hisham. On 
having finished his piece, the poet obtained admission to the 
caliph and recited his verses, by which, we are told, Abdurrah- 
man was moved to tears, and gave him two thousand dinars, 
one thousand for each eye, — a compensation, to which Hisham 
himself after his accession was so compassionate as to add an 
equal amount (Journal Asiatique, 1856, No. II., p. 476). Among 
the Moors themselves, the elegy composed by Ibn Abdun on 
the fall of the dynasty of Badajoz was one of the most highly 
prized, but it is too elaborate and artificial to be equally to 
our taste. Among those which are really pathetic and sublime 
we may again mention that on the decline of Islam in Spain 
already spoken of on page 34. It is from the pen of Abul 
Beka Salih, and was occasioned by the taking of Cordova and 
Seville by Ferdinand the Catholic. 

Among all the compositions of this class, however, there is 
perhaps nothing more beautiful and touching than the elegies 
written during his imprisonment by El Motamid, the unfortu- 
nate emir of Seville, and we can therefore scarcely refrain from 
reproducing a specimen or two from them. But we have in 
the first place to premise a word concerning the most romantic 
life and adventures of this prince. 

El Motamid was a member of the glorious dynasty of the 
Abbadides, which for a long time elevated Seville into rivalry 



40 

with the Cordova of the caliphate, and which in every respect 
was one of the most brilliant centres of Moslem civilization in 
the West. He was the son of El Motadid, who commenced to 
rule in 1043, — a cruel and most treacherous sybarite, but never- 
theless a great amateur of poetry and himself a writer of verses. 
In early youth El Motamid was fonder of his enjoyments than 
of his arms, and a culpable defeat before Malaga, where he had 
been sent to fight, incensed the father so much, that the young 
prince had no little difficulty in escaping from his punishment 
U) Silves, where he then lived for some years in exile, until he 
finally appeased the wrath of the offended parent by addressing 
to him a number of poetical epistles. He had, however, on 
sooner succeeded to the throne, in 1069, than he not only at 
once evinced a much nobler temper and a far greater poetical 
talent than his father, but he also presently proved himself 
much more of a warrior by the conquest of Cordova, which he 
then added to his kingdom. 

The first period of El Motamid's reign was one of the sun- 
niest prosperity, and he was so brilliantly surrounded by every 
thing in the shape of material and intellectual refinement, that 
the historians of the West have almost as many anecdotes 
to relate of it as those of the East have left us concerning the 
life of Harun ar Rashid. 

11 El Motamid," sayslbn Challikan, " was the most generous, 
hospitable, magnanimous and powerful of all the princes of 
Spain, and his court the most popular place of repose for trav- 
ellers and the resort of talent of every kind; in a word, the 
point upon which the hopes of all were centred, so that no 
court of any other ruler of that time could boast of being 
frequented by an equal number of poets and men of learning. " 
And in all this El Motamid was far from being a mere Maecenas 
or an idle spectator ; his intellect was as alive and active as 
any. It was during these halcyon days of his existence that 
he improvised a series of poetical effusions, which in point of 
natural ease and graceful elegance are not inferior to any of 
his time, and of which his biographers have left us a minute 
account. All of these pieces originated at some one of his favorite 
places of resort, palaces in the city or on the river, such as 
El Mubarak, El Mukarram, Az-Zoraya, Az-Zahi and several 
others. 

The first shadow cast upon this Eldorado life of El Motamid 
was the tragical death of hia son Abbad, whom he had ap- 
pointed governor of Cordova, but only, it would seem, to lose 
him in an insurrection led by Ibn Okasha, a native of the city. 



4L 

The father was frantic and ordered the rebel to be nailed to the 
cross (a punishment which some time before he had attempted 
to inflict on a thief), suspecting but little how many additional 
calamities he had yet before him, to which the present was 
but the ominous prelude. About that time the cause of the 
Christians had been making new advances, and Alphonso VI. 
of Castile had succeeded in making all the Mohammedan 
princes tributary to his power, El Motamid included. But 
not content with the payment of tribute, Alphonso after a 
while sent an embassy to Seville demanding of its king a sur- 
render of his fortresses. This was too much for our El Motamid, 
who in his indignation beat the ambassador and ordered his 
companions executed. The outrage naturally gave rise to new 
preparations for war, and the siege of Seville was contem- 
plated. In this emergency the Moslem sheikhs, afraid of com- 
bating Alphonso's force alone, concluded to apply for aid to 
Yussuf Ibn Tashfin, the king of Morocco, and in 1086 El Mo- 
tamid himself went over, to be surer of success. Yussuf 
agreed, and at once collected a large force of cavalry and foot, 
with which he shortly after won for his confederates a most 
brilliant victory in the bloody battle of Zalaka (10SG), from 
which Alphonso had a narrow escape. But Yussuf was as 
treacherous as he was cruel and fanatical (he had sent the 
heads of tens of thousands of slain Christians to the different 
cities of Spain and Africa), and returned to Africa only to plot 
treason against his allies on the other side. After a series of 
preliminary manoeuvres, in which he yet pretended to be El 
Motamid's friend, he finally threw off the mask completely, and 
after the capture of fort Tarifa commanded himself proclaimed 
master of Andalusia in 1090. He next took Cordova, in the 
defense of which Mamun, one of El Motamid's sons, lost his 
life, and then Seville, which its king defended only with the 
loss of an additional sod, and where he presently had to wit- 
ness all his palaces devastated by the fanatically barbarous 
enemy. El Motamid himself was taken prisoner with his entire 
family and sent in chains to Africa, where he was doomed to 
spend the remainder of his days in a dungeon at Agmat, a city 
some distance southeast of Morocco. In this condition he re- 
mained until he was released by death in 1095. One of his 
daughters was subsequently sold into slavery at Seville and one 
of his grandsons became a jeweller somewhere else in Spain. 

The keen reverses of fortune experienced by El Motamid 
did not fail to produce a profound impression on his mind, and 
he almost sunk beneath the weight of his afflictions. Yet he 



42 

endeavored to console himself, like a man of intellect and heart, 
by giving vent to his grief in a series of poetical effusions which 
we have already characterized as elegies, and which are yet 
esteemed as among the most perfect of his nation's literature. 
They generally link themselves either to some reminiscence of 
his former life or to some incident of his imprisonment, of which 
his biographers offer us a minute account. A flock of wild 
pigeons, for example, passing by the window of his dungeon, 
gave rise to the following reflections : 

" As in my sorrow I witnessed the pigeons flying by my prison, I thought, 
while tears descended from my cheeks : ah, they are not in chains, are not 
incarcerated, like myself! And, by the eternal heavens! I thought no.t so 
from envy, — no, only from the desire of being free and happy like them- 
selves, able to move about wherever I might wish ; that heaven might 
grant me the boon of happier fortune like their own, and I not here in soli- 
tude might be obliged to languish in my chains, heart-broken and deserted. 
Alas! these pigeons, who know no sorrow and whom no distance separates 
from their kind, — they do not, like myself, pass dreary nights in terror, nor 
is their mind disturbed with apprehensions, like my own, when the gaolers 
approach my door and move the clattering bolt. Thus Fate has from 
eternity decreed it over me, that I should end in prison, deprived of all the 
dignity and splendor of my reign ! Let whoever may, love life, loaded by 
the weight of chains! As for myself, I can do nothing in my distress but 
long most ardently for my deliverer in death. But as for you, dear pigeons, 
may God protect you, and may no falcon rob you of your young, as they've 
robbed me, whose anguish ever bleeds anew, when I reflect how ruthlessly 
my dear ones have been torn from me." 

On hearing one day, that one of his sons had headed a re- 
volt in Andalusia against the robber on his father's throne, he 
improvised the following : 

"And must my sword-blade thus grow old without a blow, although I 
daily brandish it, eager for combat? And must my lance thus rust in indo- 
lent repose, instead of tasting red blood from the enemy, and thirst in vain 
after its wonted drink ? And shall the charger of the unhappy prince never 
again foam underneath its rider? No! it never will again obey my reins to 
hurry me onward ; for it has shuddering scent of enemies lurking concealed 
in ambush. But, if none have pity on the sword, to satisfy its languid crav- 
ings for its drink; if it be fated that my polished lance-point shall grow 
diseased from shame, unable to endure its disgrace, — then mayst thou, 
Mother Earth, at any rate soon have compassion on thy poor sorrow-stricken 
son ! Vouchsafe thy child a little place upon thy bosom, and let him in 
the grave find ample repose !" 

In one of these elegies, El Motamid contrasts the clinking of 
his chains with the music of the fair singers by which he once 
was surrounded. In another he laments over the loss of a 
cherished son, and over the wretched aspect of his daughters, 
whom he perceives disfigured by hunger and in rags, obliged to 
earn their livelihood by spinning at Agmat — one even at the 



43 

house of some one formerly in her father's service. But on 
these couplets we have no room here to dwell. We will con- 
tent ourselves with a few more passages from his lines to Az- 
Zahi, the superb and beautifully located palace on the Guadal- 
quivir, where he had spent many a delightful hour : 

*' O'er me, the prisoner on Maghrib's strand, the orphaned throne of my 
dear country weeps ; so do the pulpits of the mosques in Spain weep over my 
calamity. The sword and lance, which once I brandished high, are now 
draped in deep mourning o'er their loss, and Fortune, which on others smiles, 
has fled from me. ... 6, were I, free from chains, once more permitted to 
see my home and its familiar retreats ! O, could I pass again, as formerly, 
my nights along the rapid Guadalquivir, reposing in the olive-thicket near 
the pond, while round me the soft evening-breezes dallied with the branches 
of the myrtle and in its foliage the turtle-dove cooed her sweet song! And 
that my eyes again might light upon Az-Zahi's and Zoraya's majestic piles ! 
Could they but see me, they would delighted stretch out their pinnacles, like 
arms, to meet me, and my Az-Zahi would in eager haste long to embrace me, 
as a groom his bride! But all this now seems quite impossible to me, and 
yet God sometimes works even the impossible." 

Among El Motamid's cotemporaries we can scarcely omit 
mentioning the equally talented and excentric adventurer Ibn 
Ammar, whom his genius raised from the obscurest origin to the 
command of armies, the intimacy of princes, nay, to the emin- 
ence of princely rank itself. He was a poet of no ordinary 
merit, although of a skeptical turn of mind ; in succession the 
confidential vizier, the ambassador, and chief commander at the 
court of Seville, and for some time the royal governor of Silves, 
but by his ambition misled into treason, and on that account 
eventually murdered in prison by the hand of El Motamid 
himself. 

In addition to the varieties of poetry thus far enumerated, 
the different anthologies offer us several others of the minor 
sort, such as epigrams, gnomic verses, apophthegms and inscrip- 
tions of every shade and hue, besides an immense number of 
pieces that do not admit of definite classification. From these 
we might select many a specimen of ingenuity or elegance, per- 
haps even many a literary curiosity, were our limits not already 
passed. To the drama and the epos the Moslems of the East 
and West and of every period of their history remained almost 
entire strangers, and even of the epic ballad or romanza, as it 
existed in Christian Spain, and much earlier in northern Europe, 
there is scarcely a real vestige to be found among them. And 
the reason of this was not because there was no popular poetry 
among them, but because the origin, the development and 
genius of their poetry was a peculiar one and in fact entirely 
sui ge?ieris< As to the existence of a popular poetry, that is to 



44 

say, of a poetry of and for the masses and in the common dia- 
lect, and that of a very extensive one, among the Arabs of 
Spain, there cannot be the slightest doubt; for not only, as we 
have already seen, was even the peasant behind the plough am- 
bitious to mnke verses, but there are also several distinct poetical 
Varieties or forms, such as the zadjal and the muwishaha, which 
are designated as peculiar to the people, and in which the poets 
of the court not unfrequently wrote pieces destined for a wider 
circulation among the millions at large. 

Among the Moslem poets of Andalusia it is customary also 
to include those of the north of Africa and of the islands, 
especially of Sicily, where there was a large number, and some 
of them of considerable distinction. Such was, for example, 
Ibn Hamdis of Syracuse, from the eleventh century, one of El 
Motamid's friends, and the author of a great variety of pieces of 
far more than ordinary merit, among others of several long 
kassldas inscribed by way of ornament upon the walls and 
ceilings of one of Prince Almansur's superb palaces at Bugia. 
Blind and unfortunate in his old age, he compared himself to 
the eagle no longer able to fly, and to whom his young are 
obliged to fetch his nourishment. To the name of Ibn Hamdis 
we may add, as likewise of Sicily, those of Ibn Tubi, Ibn Tazi, 
Bellanobi, Abul Arab, Ibn Raffa, Ibn Omar, Ibn Daw, and 
Abdurrahman of Trapani. The entire number of Western poets, 
of whom Von Hammer-Purgstall has given biographical notices 
with specimens of their writings in the fifth, sixth and seventh 
volumes of his history, amounts to upward of three hundred and 
thirty. 

One of the most prominent and striking peculiarities of the 
poetry of the Arabs both of the East and West is, as we have 
already observed, its originality* It developed itself from the 
outset entirely out of its own resources, and never at any period 
of its history did it become subject to any foreign influences 
whatsoever. To such an extent is this so, that one of their 
most learned and cleverest writers, Ibn Chaldun, probably only 
repeats hearsay, when in his chapter on Arabic poetry he alludes 
to that of the Persians and the Greeks and speaks of Aristotle as 
mentioning and praising Homer. It is true, that the Arabs have 
enjoyed the reputation of having known the Greeks at a time 
when elsewhere in Europe they were entirely forgotten, but 
their knowledge was confined almost exclusively to philosoph- 
ical and strictly scientific works, and these even they derived 
not from the original, but from some Syriac translations at their 
command. In every other respect, that is to say, in every thing 



45 

relating to the history, mythology and poetry of other nations 
they exhibited the most astonishing ignorance. What wonder 
then, that a philosopher of no less eminence than Averroes 
should in his paraphrase of Aristotle's Poetics substitute the 
names of Antar, Amrulkais, Montenebbi, &c, in place of those 
of Homer, Euripides and Sophocles, and that he should have so 
little conception of the character of Greek literature as to de- 
fine tragedy " the art to praise," and comedy " the art to 
blame," and upon the basis of this monstrous assumption to 
claim for the panegyric and satirical kassidas of his nation a 
place by the side of the high tragedies and comedies of the 
old Greeks? ! Nevertheless, however true it maybe, that the 
Arabs on account of their adherence to their own antecedents 
and their neglect to learn from others, should have entirely failed 
in the highest forms of poetry, it is yet equally undeniable that 
in those forms which they cultivated and developed among them- 
selves, which we have seen to be the lyrical, they really rose to 
a very high degree of perfection, and that they have left us 
gems and flowers without number, which will lose nothing in 
comparison with any other of their kind, either ancient or 
modern. 

The question concerning the influence of the Arabs on the 
poetical literature of the South has occupied the historians and 
critics for a great while, some claiming nearly every thing, 
even the rhyme, derived from them, while others are disposed 
to credit them with nothing whatsoever. The truth lies doubt- 
less somewhere between the two extremes. For while on the 
one hand we can not evade admitting the existence of a long 
protracted, if not an intimate, contact between the two civiliza- 
tions upon the soil of Spain and Sicily, however hostile they 
otherwise were, especially in respect to religion, and a contact 
that extended itselt to every class of society, it is on the other 
hand no less manifest that the Christian poetry of the Provencals, 
of Spain and Italy has every characteristic of a distinct individ- 
uality, and of one which can only be accounted for by assuming 
it to be an original and inherent one. Let us adduce a few 
facts of the case : 

Although the Christian authors of Spain of every century 
are but too prone to pronounce judgment in reference to the 
Moors indicative of the grossest ignorance, denouncing even 
their scientific men as necromancers in league with the devil, 
and contributing in every way to fan the religious hate which 
formed one of the most deeply rooted characteristics of both 
parties, it is yet equally evident that a large number of Chris- 



46 

tiara of every rank and in every part of Spain found in the nat- 
ural course of events better opportunity to judge of their antag- 
onists, and that in many instances they had occasion to be 
rather favorably than otherwise impressed by them. In many 
cases (and these in the course of centuries must have been quite 
frequent), in which sections of Christian population were con- 
quered or led captive, and mildly treated, the natural result 
was free, if not friendly, intercourse, and this often lasted so 
long that many of them learned not only to speak, but even to 
read and write the Arabic, and to compose verses in it, while on 
the other hand the unfortunate Moriscos must to some extent 
have likewise found opportunity to make known their language 
and perhaps now and then also their poetry among their con- 
querors. Sometimes the conquered Christians were free to the 
extent of complete religious toleration. At different times 
many of them served in the army of the caliphs or kings, while 
others occupied lucrative places at court or in the palaces of 
Moslem nobles. Under these circumstances it is not surpris- 
ing that the refined culture of the Arabs should occasionally at- 
tract them likewise to its circle, and that after awhile the more 
educated among them should despise their unwieldy dialect, 
the rustic Latin or Romansh, and apply themselves with avidity 
to the language of their masters. Such was the case as early 
as the ninth century, if we may credit Alvaro, the bishop of 
Cordova, who complains bitterly of it as a great calamity to the 
church. "Many of my religious cotemporaries read the 
poetry and the tales of the Arabs, and study the writings of the 
Mohammedan theologians and philosophers, not to refute them, 
but in order to learn how to express themselves with correctness 
and elegance in the language. . . . All the young men, who 
are noted for some talent, know but the language and literature 
of the Arabs ; they read and study Arabic books with avidity ; 
nay they even go to enormous expense in collecting libraries of 
them and everywhere declare the literature to be a most admir- 
able one. . . . Many have even forgotten their own lan- 
guage, and there is scarcely one in a thousand amongst us, who 
knows how to write a tolerable Latin letter to a friend, while 
scores of them can express themselves most elegantly in the 
Arabic, and even compose poems in this language better than 
the Arabs themselves." Of poems of this description there are 
yet some vestiges extant, and we also know that in Andalusia 
the Latin was at one time so far neglected that Archbishop John 
of Seville found it necessary to translate the Bible into the 
Arabic. Nevertheless we must not imagine that this was the 



47 

case every where ; the ruslica or Romansh continued to exist 
quite generally as the idiom of the people, with which in their 
turn then the Arabs were likewise sometimes familiar. It is 
needless to multiply examples ; it is not necessary to remind 
ourselves of characters like the redoubted champion, the Cid, 
who fought alternately under kings of both parties, although 
always claimed faithful to one, and who was doubtless familiar 
not only with the language but with every thing relating to the 
civilization of his ally-opponents; we have evidence enough to 
prove that Christian Spain was not beyond the reach of some 
influence from so conspicuous and popular an element of 
Moslem culture as was their poetry. In Sicily the contact, 
although later, is yet equally apparent, at least as long as Fred- 
eric II. and his son Manfred kept imperial court upon the island. 
Frederic was from early youth familiar with the Arabic, the 
friend and munificent patron of high scientific culture in general, 
surrounded by men of science and letters from all parts and of 
every sort, of which, we are expressly told, quite a number, if not 
the majority, were Arabs, and some troubadours from the South 
of France. Now Frederic was not only himself an amateur of 
poetry, but he enjoys the fame of having introduced the Proven- 
cals upon Sicilian soil and of having thus founded there a school 
which at a little later date merged itself into the Italian ; and how 
could a prince of Frederic's taste and society remain a stranger to 
the poetry and the poets of a nation, in which in other respects 
he found so much to appreciate, and on a spot where the superb- 
est architectural monuments were considered ornamented 
by inscriptions from the hand of genius ? But besides all this, 
we have evidence of even a direct influence of the Arabic 
element upon the old Spanish or Castilian in a number of pop- 
ular pieces which have been shown to be refusions of Arabic 
zadjals and muwashahas yet extant. Any farther than this, 
however, the influence of the Arabs has not, and in all proba- 
bility can not, be proven, and we must therefore assume it to 
have been much more of an indirect and general than of a special 
or radical one. The poetry of the South of France, of Spain 
and Italy is therefore nevertheless far from being a borrowed or 
ingrafted one ; it originated and matured on an essentially dif- 
ferent ground, is the expression of a distinct circle of ideas, and 
in point of both form and substance bears the imprint of a pro- 
foundly marked individuality. 



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